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Struggling Upward 


BY 




J-. croiTES, 


AUTHOR OF DOWNWARD.** 


** Turn yCf turn ye from your evil ways ; for why will ye die 



PHILADELPHIA : 

The American Sunday-School Union, 


1122 Chestnut Street. 


New York: 8 and io Bible House. 




9 


Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1883, by 
The American Sunday-School Union, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. 


I 




CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER I.- 
« II.- 


« 

<( 


III. - 

IV. - 


“ V.- 

« VI.- 

VII.- 
“ VIII.- 
IX.- 
X.- 
XI.- 
XII.- 

XIII. - 

XIV. - 
XV.- 

XVI.- 
“ XVII.- 
“ XVIII.- 
XIX.- 
XX.- 
XXI.- 
** XXII.- 
“ XXIII.- 


-A HANDFUL OF MEAL IN A BARREL 7 

-GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY I9 

-IN .THE TRACK OF THE TORNADO 32 

-SEARCHING FOR THE LIVING AND THE 

DEAD 44 

-A BABY IN THE CAMP 57 

-THE EMPTY CRADLE 69 

-JOY AMONG THE ANGELS 82 

-THE NAMELESS GRAVE 94 

-LED BY A LITTLE CHILD I03 

-WHAT IS TRUTH? II7 

-“MAN PROPOSES; GOD DISPOSES” 128 

-THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR I39 

-HUNTED J 152 

-A PAGE FROM A LIFE’S HISTORY 1 64 

-A PLACE OF REFUGE I 7 S 

-LABOR IN THE VINEYARD 1 86 

—THE WORK OF FALSE TEACHERS I97 

—SUCCESS AND FAILURE 210 

—WEIGHED IN THE BALANCE 221 

—THE HIDDEN TREASURE 232 

—SERPENT TOOTH 244 

—THE WHITE SISTER 260 

—“RETURNING AND REST” - 273 

( 5 ) 


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PWARD. 


CHAPTER I. 


A HANDFUL OF MEAL IN A BARREL. 

Who can number the clouds in wisdom ? or who can stay 
the bottles of heaven, when the dust groweth into hardness, 
and the clods cleave fast together ? ” 

“ Thy shoes shall he iron and brass ; and as thy days, so shall 
thy strength 



‘HE thin, pale-faced woman who stood at the 


A door of the little cottage, with one hand 
resting on her husband’s shoulder, uttered the 
words in a clear, firm tone ; but the man shrank 
from her touch and the sound of her voice with a 
little shrug of impatience. He made no reply to 
the words she had spoken, and not even bidding 
her good-bye, went away without turning his 


head. 


“ Humph ! ” he exclaimed to himself, ** what 
with tramping about the country, mile upon 
mile, in a vain search for work or a chance to 
sell the cattle, in truth my feet feel as heavy as 


f7) 


8 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


if they were indeed shod with iron or brass ! ” 
And then this man of whom I am telling you 
started suddenly, and as if speaking to a second 
person muttered : 

“ See here, none of that, Walter Gills ! Have 
you come to this — perverting and reviling the 
Scripture, after having been blest with a Chris- 
tian mother and a godly wife ? 

He strode forward as if trying to trample down 
the complaining, rebellious thoughts that pressed 
to his lips for utterance. 

Mrs. Gills stood looking after her husband 
for some time. Then with one swift glance her 
eye swept over the parched fields which had 
given bright promises in the early summer. The 
corn, then green and fresh, now stood in gaunt 
ranks, dwarfed, shriveled and rustling in the wind. 
The meadows were brown and the streams were 
dried up. The lean cattle, crowding close to the 
fence which separated them from the door-yard, 
were lowing pitifully. That was the saddest sight 
and sound of all except one, the hungry look and 
cry of the little child, now happily asleep ; and, in 
spite of the promise which she had just repeated 
to her husband, Mrs. Gills’ heart was very, very 
sore and faint. She tried to fortify her faith with 
other passages, but it seemed to her as if the very 
words which came to her memory were mockings 
of her misery and destitution. She repeated 


A HANDFUL OF MEAL IN A BARREL, 9 

aloud : He watereth the hills from his chambers : 
the earth is satisfied with the fruit of thy works. 
He causeth the grass to grow for the cattle, and 
herb for the service of man, that he may bring, 
forth food out of the earth. ... He satisfieth the 
longing soul, and filleth the hungry soul with 
goodness. . . . Who covereth the heaven with 
clouds, who prepareth rain for the earth, who 
maketh grass to grow upon the mountains. He 
giveth to the beast his food, and to the young 
ravens which cry.” 

With the cloudless, burning skies above her 
and the desolation all around her — with the 
mournful lowing 6f the thirsting, starving cattle 
in her ears — the temptation was strong upon her 
to renounce the faith to which she had clung, 
and which had sustained her through many a 
dark passage of her life. Turning sharply 
around, as if to face the unseen enemy who was 
whispering suggestions of darkness and doubt, 
she began to walk the floor excitedly, exclaim- 
ing: 

* Shall we receive good at the hand of God, 
and shall we not receive evil Why art 

thou cast down, O my soul ? and art thou 
disquieted within me ? hope thou in God : for I 
shall yet praise him, who is the health of my 
countenance, and my God.* ’* 

.Then the voice of the victorious one rose 


10 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


liigher in the sublime triumph of submissive 
confidence. ‘‘^Although the fig tree shall not 
blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines ; the 
labor of the olive shall fail, and the fields shall 
yield no meat ; the flock shall be cut off from 
the fold, and there shall be no herd in the stalls ; 
yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the 
God of my salvation.’ ” 

The tempter was vanquished as only the 
sword of the word of God can vanquish him. 
The hardness was broken up, and falling upon 
her knees, the trembling woman, faint from long 
fasting, yet clinging with unfaltering hand to 
the promises of her God, prayed with strong 
crying and tears, not for rescue from the star- 
vation which seemed impending, but for preser- 
vation from the sin of despair and bitter rebellion, 
born of unbelief. The conflict was over for this 
time, but she petitioned for strength to meet the 
tempter if he should return to the attack. It 
was a prayer that might have sounded strange 
to a chance listener. In that isolated spot the 
suppliant had no fears of being interrupted in 
her devotions, but felt as if she were alone with 
her God ; and yet, unknown to her, she had a 
human listener. 

Rising from her knees, she took a pail, and 
emptying its contents into a small pitcher, she 
went out to the well. The supply of water had 


A HANDFUL OF MEAL IN A BARREL. 11 

grown so meager that it barely sufficed for the 
necessities of the family ; yet now she deliber- 
ately drew all that she could obtain, and divided 
it with careful impartiality among the thin milch 
cows and the meek-faced oxen, who patiently 
waited for their share. 

Returning to the house, she prepared a little 
gruel for the baby, whom she knew hunger 
would not permit to sleep much longer. 

She had used one more spoonful of the hand- 
ful of meal which was all her store, but she 
thought of the widow of Zarephath, and a deep 
calm was upon her soul. Despair had fled away 
like a black-winged bird, and the dove of peace 
had come in its stead. It was as if she heard a 
voice saying : “ Be still, and know that I am 
God." 

When she had made ready the baby’s scanty 
breakfast, she sat down with a feeling that now 
it was only her duty to wait. 

Presently she heard the little feet pattering 
across the floor of the adjoining room : he had 
climbed out of his low crib and was coming after 
his breakfast. 

Harry ! ” called the mother softly. ** Mam- 
ma ! ’’ responded the child in the only word he 
could speak, and the soft arms were around her 
neck the next moment. Then came the morning 
bath, in which, unlike most babies, Harry de- 


12 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


lighted. It was quickly dispatched in these 
days, however, for water was too scarce to be 
used freely. 

On this morning one of the baby’s dimpled 
fists, which were growing less plump the mother 
noticed sadly, was kept carefully closed as 
though it grasped a prize which he feared to lose. 
The mother laughingly made a feint of opening 
the tiny fingers ; then kissing the chubby obsti- 
nate she placed his breakfast before him. 

What was Mrs. Gills’ surprise, a little later, 
when, intent upon his poor little cup of gruel, 
Harry voluntarily relinquished his newly found 
treasure, and dropped upon the table with a 
ringing sound a piece of gold ! 

It was useless to question the child as to where 
he had obtained it. Could it be that Walter 
had placed the money in the sleeping baby’s 
hand before going out ? The idea was instantly 
rejected. There was the danger of the child’s los- 
ing the precious coin, and Walter knew there was 
nothing in the house to eat, and he had obvi- 
ously gone away depressed almost to despera- 
tion. 

How slow we are to recognize the hand of 
our heavenly Father in the helps that come to 
us unexpectedly in our dire necessities! We 
may not look for miracles to be wrought in our 
behalf, but human instrumentalities are made to 


A HANDFUL OF MEAL IN A BARREL, 13 

do God's work as truly as are the angels — those 
bright-winged messengers, who leave their home 
in the heavenly world and at his bidding come 
to earth as ministering spirits sent forth to 
minister to those who shall be heirs of salvation. 

Mrs. Gills sat as one stupefied, turning over 
and over in her fingers the blessing which had 
come to her in such an unlooked-for manner; 
for to-day she had not prayed for food : she had 
only asked for resignation, for submission, for 
unwavering love for, and trust ' in, God. She 
had petitioned for the spirit to exclaim : 
‘‘ Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him ! 
She had felt that blessing would come in the 
Master’s own good time and way, yet she had 
never thought of gold. 

How much it would buy, and the nearest 
provision store two miles away ! Then she re- 
menibered that Dan Eakins would pass along 
the road to-day with his faltering oxen, to bring 
the light load of provision which he hauled 
weekly for the mining company up at “The 
Quick Gulch,” as the sanguine fellows had 
named it many weeks ago. Their subsequent 
disappointment had furnished the foundation of 
more than one grim joke and suggestion of a 
change of name ; but, hoping against hope, the 
majority were still delving away, while their re- 
sources were perceptibly dwindling. 

2 


14 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


Here then was an opportunity to obtain a 
supply. True, Dan was not notorious for hon- 
esty, and might not return the balance in full, 
but there was no alternative: she must have 
something for the baby and a meal prepared 
against her husband’s return. As soon as Dan 
appeared, Mrs. Gills tied a towel to a stick and 
signaled. 

The teamster called out an unnecessarily 
authoritative “ whoa ! ” to the poor, feeble ani- 
mals he was driving, and, dismounting, came up 
to the house, muttering something about the 
danger of stopping the team lest it should fall 
down. 

Mrs. Gills met him at the door with little 
Harry in her arms. The baby hand was again 
holding fast its golden discovery. 

** Harry, give it to the man. He will bring 
the baby milk,” said the mother, coaxingly. 

The child seemed to understand the words, 
and, hesitating but a moment, reached forth his 
hand and deposited the coin in the rough, out- 
stretched palm. 

Dan started a little at the sight of the gold. 

“ Whew ! you are the richest young man in 
these parts ! ” he exclaimed, and baby smiled as 
if he comprehended and appreciated the com- 
pliment. 

‘‘If you will please come in for a moment I 



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I 




A HANDFUL OF MEAL IN A BARREL, 15 

will make a list of the articles I wish you to 
bring,” Mrs. Gills continued. 

Thank you, ma’am, I’ll wait here. I’m afraid 
that team of mine might undertake to run away,” 
answered Dan, in the usual jocularity of the 
camp. 

The list was soon written with a stub of lead- 
pencil on a fly-leaf torn from a book. It was 
headed with three quarts of condensed milk,” 
and then followed flour, meat, cheese, tea, et 
cetera^ in a profusion which surprised the writer 
herself as she penciled the items. 

Placing the money inside of the paper, Dan 
made a great show of depositing it carefully in 
his well-worn pocket-book, which he stowed 
away in his pocket, and resumed his journey, 
promising to return with the stores about noon. 

The sun rose higher and hotter, and true to 
his promise, just as the twelve o’clock shadow 
fell across the doorstep, the messenger made 
his appearance turning the angle of the road in 
a cloud of dust. The baby, adding a new word 
to his small vocabulary, was calling out, “ Milk, 
milk!” while the mother was in a tremor of 
expectation, which only those who have been 
in similar circumstances can understand. 

Dan did not give any very minute account of 
prices, but he produced a goodly quantity of 
money, part of which was returned to him in 


16 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


spite of his protest that he ** did not expect to 
be paid for a bit of neighborly kindness.” He 
seemed in a condition of unwonted excitement, 
which was finally accounted for by the statement 
that the woods were on fire some miles below, 
accompanied by an announcement of the self- 
evident fact that everything was dry enough to 
burn like tinder. 

**They are prophesying rain down at The 
Forks, but I must say I don’t see much in the 
way of clouds. The wind is blowing from the 
east, but it appears to me it is likelier to’ bring 
fire than water,” he continued. 

“ How far has the fire reached ? ” asked Mrs. 
Gills. 

‘‘ Well,” answered Dan, it was raging around 
in the Pine Hill neighborhood at last accounts; 
but fire, you know, travels rather faster than 
Larry and Lineback yonder, fast as they are,” 
he added grimly, as he hurried back to his 
panting oxen and urged them forward to a speed 
which was far beyond their strength. 

When he had proceeded a little distance he 
looked back, and drawing up with another loud 
command to his oxen, he seemed about to return 
to the cottage. Whatever motive impelled him, 
he halted but a few minutes, and then continued 
his journey, and to all outward seeming Mrs. 
Gills was left alone to meet the threatening 
danger. 


A HANDFUL OF MEAL IN A BARREL. 17 

Yes, the fire was raging and crackling as 
though its fury would never be appeased until 
the whole region was one scene of blackness 
and desolation ; but, unseen as yet by man, an 
unfailing barrier had been interposed beyond 
which it was not to pass. 

As Dan Eakins had said, the east wind was 
blowing, and the clouds of which he had spoken 
with such scornful incredulity were gathering 
their forces just below the horizon, and when 
they made their appearance, it was as an army 
with sable banners, marching on irresistibly. 
Forward, still forward they came, until the whole 
heavens were covered with blackness. The 
sight was so unusual in that long-remembered 
year of drouth, and the appearance so sudden 
and so awfully grand, with* tfie long, dark lines 
drawn up as if for battle, that ^ the lookers-on 
half trembled as they gazed. 

A little later the clouds seemed to burst and 
pour down their long-gathered fullness upon the 
licking tongues of fire; upon the fountainless 
hillsides ; upon the parched pastures and dusty 
roadsides, that drank and drank as if they could 
never have enough ; and then the streams ran 
down the gullies and gathered in pools in places 
where drouth had long held undisputed sway. 

Little children held out their hands to catch 
the grateful drops, and thirsty beasts and birds 

2* B 


18 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


and creeping things and plants that were ready 
to perish, drank deeply of the heaven-given 
draught. Walter Gills, plodding painfully home- 
ward through the pouring rain, enjoyed the 
shower bath which it gave him, and was glad in 
his heart that it had come, though quite too late 
to save his poor, lost crops. 

‘‘ The grass will grow again,” he said to him- 
self, and if we can but keep the wolf from the 
door a little longer — ” Ah ! he remembered 
with a start that neither he nor his wife had eaten 
a mouthful for several days, and that baby’s meal 
was getting low. He uttered the sacred name 
of God, but it was not in a tone of humble en- 
treaty or earnest, reverential petition; it was 
rather an exclamation of despair. 

He loitered as he neared the cottage ; it was 
so terrible to enter and tell his wife that he had 
failed once more — that starvation was one day 
nearer their home, and he powerless to avert it. 
Walter Gills recognized the existence of a God, 
and had a certain respect for his revealed will, 
but he was as yet ‘‘ outside the gates,” having 
no faith and no hope. Alas ! for such in the time 
of trouble ! 

But his ways are not as our ways. The meas- 
ure of his plans is larger than the earth and 
broader than the sea. 


CHAPTER II. 

GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY. 

** Blessed is he that considereth the poor ; the Lord will de* 
liver him in time of trouble.” 

I N a lonely spot among the mountains a camp- 
fire was burning in a kind of natural fire- 
place among the rocks, and a rough bearded 
man, sitting with his back against a log, was 
drying his soaked garments before the flame. 
There was a sound of cattle lowing uneasily now 
and then at a point not far distant; and this 
occasional break upon the monotony of the 
otherwise silent night seemed to deepen the 
gloom. 

The man having dried his clothes, proceeded 
to prepare his rude supper, which he ate with 
the relish of one too hungry to be fastidious, and 
then sat smoking by the fire, turning his head 
now and then as if listening for the coming of 
some one. 

‘*At last ! he exclaimed grufifly, as by and by 
another emerged from the darkness into the 
light of the fire. ** I didn’t know but you had 

( 19 ) 


20 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


concluded to go over to the States and get some 
fine stock. Where are the cattle, Ted ? ” he 
concluded still more surlily. 

“ I haven’t brought them,” answered the new- 
comer. “ Why, Dick, it was impossible. They 
couldn’t have crossed the spur without being 
carried, and besides the man owns only two 
half-starved milch cows and one yoke of oxen.” 
The other man opened his half-shut eyes and 
looked at the speaker curiously. 

‘‘ What’s that to us ? ” he asked. 

“ Wait till I get done ! ” was ihe answer. 
** I heard them talking, and they had nothing to 
eat in the house but a little meal for gruel for 
the baby, and neither Gills nor his wife had tasted 
food for days.” 

“ What’s that to us ? ” heartlessly asked the 
listener again. 

‘‘I tell you to be quiet!” said the speaker 
threateningly. “ You cannot understand unless 
you had seen and heard the woman with her 
great hungry-looking eyes ; but I tell you she 
talked and prayed like my mother ; and I should 
have expected to be paralyzed if I had attempted 
to do what I went there to accomplish. It was 
nearly daylight when I reached the spot, and I 
was obliged to hide in the loft of the cabin, 
which I entered from the outside, and where I 
saw and heard it all. Oh ! Dick, there must be 


GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY. 


21 


something in a religion that can hold one up 
like that! While the woman was out of the 
room, I dropped my last shiner through a crev- 
ice to the baby, who is marvelously like one I 
used to know, and I saw the little fellow pick it 
up.” 

Dick, as he had been called, lay back against 
the log near which he was sitting, and gave 
vent to one long, loud guffaw of laughter after 
another. 

The younger man looked on and listened, 
seemingly undisturbed. 

“ I don’t wonder you laugh,” he said, when 
the noise had a little subsided. “ I would have 
sneered at you for the same thing a few days 
ago ; but, Dick, there was a power over me that 
I could not resist, when that woman repeated 
passages that I have read and heard my mother 
read, about the rain from heaven and food pro- 
vided for man and beast ; and then, with famine 
staring her in the face, prayed on her knees to 
be kept, not from starvation, but to be kept from 
sin — ‘the sin of doubt and despair,’ she said. 
Think of it, Dick ! I verily believe that the rain 
which came in torrents a few hours later was 
sent for her sake, for the fire was raging a little 
way off. The family was having a feast when I 
slipped out under cover of the darkness — a feast 
of thanksgiving. I tell you, Dick, I have not 


22 


■ STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


felt as I did then since I got out of jail — no, in- 
deed, not since I was a boy with my mother’s 
voice sounding in my ears.” 

He paused and seemed lost in reflection. 
Dick, who had been watching him for some time 
through his nearly closed eyelids, now said, 
sleepily : 

“ You’d better set out as a parson or a Sunday^ 
school teacher. Tall Ted of the Rocky Rangers ! 
It would sound pretty taking.” 

Ted madevno reply to this taunt, and his com- 
panion continued ; 

“ Well, I have not been spending the day 
lying around eavesdropping at prayer meetings. 
I’ve got half a dozen cattle corraled over yonder, 
and I can tell you I am too tired and sleepy to 
listen to any more sermons or experiences to- 
night. Get yourself some supper, if you want 
any ; I’ve had mine.” 

He paused a moment and then continued : 

“ I’ll just add, as a friend, that if you stay in 
these parts you had better get rid of all that 
* bosh ’ pretty quick and make up your mind to 
do your part before the captain gets back, I can 
tell you.” 

Dick having finished his speech, rolled him- 
self up in his blanket and lay down before the 
fire. 

Ted proceeded to heap on fresh fuel, and soon 


GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY. 


23 


the flames were .roaring despite the dampness; 
but he made no preparations for supper. He 
sat resting his chin on his hand as if in deep 
thought. Except for the lowing of the restive 
cattle now and then, the silence was unbroken 
save by the snores of Dick and by the hooting 
of owls. 

The watcher sat gazing long and earnestly 
into the blaze, occasionally shifting his position, 
as if ill at ease. Memory was busy and his 
thoughts troubled him. He rose to his feet 
hurriedly and then sat down again, as if aban- 
doning his purpose, whatever it might have been. 

I’ll do it come what will ! ” he said at length 
aloud. I have been on the down-grade long 
enough, heaven only knows! I’ll turn back at 
any risk, and I’ll begin with what comes first to 
hand.” 

Rising with an air of determination on his 
pale face, he resumed the overcoat which had 
been drying by the fire and disappeared in the 
darkness. 

Not long after the lowing of the cattle 
sounded fainter and fainter, until the snorer and 
the owls only broke the dead silence of night. 

The early light of the damp, chill morning 
found Ted (as he was called in the lawless gang 
with which he had been connected) at the Quick 
Gulch mining camp. 


24 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


** Who goes there ? ” called out Dan Eakins, 
who was filling a kettle from the bountifully 
replenished basin which had lately been so near 
exhaustion. 

“A friend,” answered Ted. “I want to see 
Grant Lucas and the other head men of this 
crowd at once.” 

“Anything very pressing?” questioned the 
other. “The boys worked like Turks yester- 
day and they don’t like- to be waked till their 
coffee is ready.” 

“ Very pressing,” answered Ted. “ I’ll take 
the responsibility of rousing them up.” 

“Well, what is wanted at this time of the 
day ? ” was Grant Lucas’ not very cordial greet- 
ing when the rousing up had been effected. 

“ I want to have a little talk with you and 
your men about this claim,” answered the visitor, 
without wasting time on preliminaries. 

“ Well, out with it,” replied the other, whose 
long list of failures to secure any success in his 
labor on the claim had rendered him not very 
amiable, especially before breakfast. It was an 
inauspicious moment for telling this man that 
he and his fellows had been shamefully de- 
frauded, and that the bearer of the message had 
been a party to the cheat. It was an act re- 
quiring real heroism, in this wild, lawless region, 
where human life is often held less sacred than 


GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY. 25 

property, and murder is not condemned as un- 
sparingly as theft. 

Grant Lucas, tall and dark browed, was now 
joined by others, and a little pause ensued, as 
all except the leader sat down in a tired way 
on a convenient log. 

“ I have no excuses to make and no plea for 
mercy to put in,” began Ted; “but just this to 
say, that you men have been villainously taken 
in on this gulch business. There is a prior 
claim, and we knew it when we sold it to you. 
If you should find gold, which is not likely, 
your work would only be labor lost, for your 
movements are being closely watched.” 

This statement was greeted by exclamations 
in different keys, and with different degrees of 
wrath and astonishment. 

“Who told you all this?” demanded Grant 
Lucas, coolly, “If this state’s evidence is a 
put-up job, we ought to hang you all the same.” 

“ It is no put-up job,” protested the informant. 
“ I heard the matter all talked over beforehand. 
It is the truth itself.” 

“And you had a hand in this rascality which 
you are so ready to vouch for ? ” pursued Grant 
sternly. 

“ I cannot deny it,” answered Ted. 

“ Swing him up to the limb over his head ! ** 
spoke a voice from the log. 


26 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


** How much did you expect to make on this 
new job ? ” asked another. 

“ Suppose of course you brought back your 
share of the steal ! ” sarcastically suggested a 
third. 

** Honestly, boys, I didn’t get a fortune from 
the transaction,” answered Ted, fearlessly facing 
his jury, “though I got more than I deserved. 
I did get a twenty dollar gold piece, but I gave it 
yesterday to a family a short distance below 
here who were just on the verge of starvation. 
It really never occurred to me at the time that 
it was not mine to give.” 

This statement was received with a chorus of 
jeering yells and laughter that echoed through 
the solitudes of the surrounding mountain sides. 
“ That story will hardly pass current here,” said 
Grant, who had not joined in the laugh, but on 
the contrary looked blacker than ever, his dusky 
eyes seeming to contract darkness in their depths. 

“Did you send the money in a registered 
letter?” asked another, his voice still full of 
laughter. 

“ No,” answered Ted, looking boldly into the 
eyes of his questioner, “ I gave it to the baby, 
who was being slowly starved on corn meal 
gruel.” 

Groans and renewed laughter followed this 
reply. 


GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY. 


27 


Grant Lucas made a gesture commanding 
silence. 

“ Where is the rest of your thieving gang 
now ? ” he demanded. 

“ Out on a cattle raid,” replied Ted. “ I was 
sent after Gills’, and that is how I came to be 
there.” 

Sudden and remarkable change in a notori- 
ous sinner,” sneered one, ” went to steal the 
cows, and stayed to pet the baby ! ” 

Yells of laughter again rose up. 

“ Have done with your nonsense ! ” com- 
manded Grant sternly. ” Get a couple of ropes 
and secure the renegade and let’s to breakfast. 
If the first part of his story is true, we will take 
a holiday, and that will give us plenty of time 
to attend to his case.” 

Ted’s arms were pinioned and he was firmly 
tied to a tree, while the camp proceeded to break- 
fast. There were tempting odors of coffee and 
broiled meat and much clattering of tin cups, to- 
gether with some talk and laughter, but not the 
same amount of boisterous mirth which usually 
characterized the rough meals of these men thus 
isolated from the softening influences of civilized 
life. 

Dan Eakins, who usually took his meals with 
the others, was this morning moving restlessly 
about the camp, ostensibly doing a great many 


28 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


things, but really doing nothing. A free dis- 
cussion of the prisoner and his statements went 
on during the repast, which seemed to Ted an 
unusually long one. There were many things 
said or broadly hinted, which brought a deeper 
color to his sunburnt face ; but he made no 
answers, even when the remarks were addressed 
to him. 

He had been told by Grant Lucas that after 
breakfast they would give him another hearing, 
and that then he was to “ tell the truth, the 
whole truth, and nothing but the truth, or take 
the consequences.” So Ted reserved his words 
for the formal statement which he was then to 
make. After a time had elapsed which seemed 
to him hours, the meal was concluded, and the 
men, filling their pipes, proceeded to secure each 
a glowing coal from the camp-fire, and then 
seated themselves near the prisoner to renew the 
examination. 

All sat down except Grant Lucas, the ac- 
knowledged leader of the crowd, who stood 
nearly seven feet as he leaned against the tree 
just opposite the captive, regarding the young 
man keenly, and holding in his hand a piece 
of stout rope. 

“ Now, my fine chap, let us have that yarn all 
over again, and see if you can stand a bit of 
cross-examination at the end,” he said when the 


GUILTY OR NOT GUILTY. 


men were silent, and the puffs of smoke from 
the pipes began to ascend. 

Ted retold his story with not the slightest 
alteration except the introduction of details 
which he had omitted before. 

One or two of the grim faces softened a little 
when he told of the prayer that was like his 
mother’s, but when his story was again ended 
it was pronounced “ a most unlikely tale,” and 
not a voice was raised in his behalf. 

‘‘ Well, comrades,” began Grant, after a little 
pause, “ this fellow seems to have come here this 
morning expecting to be rewarded for saying 
that he has taken part in the biggest kind of a 
swindle, and telling, as a set-off, a fine trumped- 
up story of how he has played the Good Sa- 
maritan with other people’s money. Is there a 
man in this camp who believes him ? If there 
is one, let him speak or ever after hold his 
peace.” 

There was a pause, and Ted flung an indig- 
nant denial at the speaker, who stood manipu- 
lating the rope which he held, whether with a 
view to constructing a scourge or a noose he 
could not as yet determine. 

“ I did not expect a reward ! ” he exclaimed 
hotly. “ I would scorn to accept a reward if it 
were offered. I came, because I could not help 
coming, to tell you that you were wasting your 
3 * 


30 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


time and strength. As to what I did with my 
share of the plunder, believe it or not, as you 
like ! ” 

The prisoner’s eyes flashed fearlessly in the 
stern faces of his captors, as he stood thus 
bound and at their mercy. He had risked this 
danger in the performance of an honorable ac- 
tion, and he did not regret it even now. 

The next moment out from behind a big tree 
stepped Dan Eakins, who on this morning 
seemed to have forgotten his pipe as well as his 
breakfast, a very unusual occurrence. 

Gentlemen,” he began, with unwonted polite- 
ness, “ that fellow has told you the clean, un- 
mixed truth, and I can prove it. That baby 
gave me the twenty dollar gold piece with its 
own hand, to buy it milk and flour and meat and 
such like down at the Forks yesterday. I got 
the things, and Larry and Lineback are the 
oxen that hauled them over. The baby did not 
seem to be much of a talker, and his mother 
didn’t tell me where he got the money, nor any- 
thing about the circumstances, but from the 
hollow, hungry look in her big eyes and the 
way her voice trembled when she said: ‘You 
have done us a timely service ; God bless you,’ 
I rather judge that there was famine in the 
camp.” 

Dan stopped as if for breath, swallowed hard, 


I 


GUILTY. OR NOT GUILTY. 31 

and then went on. There was a two-and-a-half- 
dollar gold piece among the change, and, believe 
it if you can, Dan Eakins was the sneaking, 
thieving cur that put it in his pocket, and theft 
when Mrs. Gills pressed a silver dollar on him 
for the service, told her that he didn’t want to be 
paid for a bit of neighborly kindness. 

** Here’s the silver,” he continued, handing 
the dollar to Grant Lucas, “ and here’s the gold,’* 
displaying the bright little coin, ‘‘and that’s 
going back to the baby again ; and now if there’s 
to be a flogging or a swing on this morning’s 
programme, here’s your proper subject.” 

While Grant Lucas’ own hands were untying 
the prisoner, there arose such a cheer as perhaps 
those gnarled old giant trees and rocky moun- 
tain sides had never heard before. Xhree-times- 
three echoed and re-echoed until the solitudes 
seemed full of voices, and the birds in the midst 
of their morning songs of thanksgiving paused 
to listen. The sound might not be musical, but 
who shall say that it was inharmonious to the 
listening angels — this spontaneous outburst of 
approval of a worthy act? If they rejoice over 
the sinner that repenteth, is there not cause for 
interest and approval when eyes are turned, 
however dimly, toward the Father’s house, when 
feet that have been wandering in the mazes of 
sin are tending, however feebly, towai-d the paths 
of truth? 


CHAPTER III. 


IN THE TRACK OF THE TORNADO. 

Thou turnest man to destruction ; and sayest, Return, ye 
children of men. . . . How are they brought into desolation, 
as in a moment ! they are utterly consumed with terrors. . . . 
And surely the mountain falling cometh to naught, and the rock 
is removed out of his place.” 

I T was late in the evening of the third day fol- 
lowing the events of the preceding chapter 
when Ted left Quick Gulch camp. We shall 
still call him Ted for convenience, although he 
had deserted the lawless company that had given 
him the name. He left his new-found friends 
with a light heart, or rather I should say with a 
light head ; for, alas ! in the “ good fellowship 
that had followed he had fallen a victim to an 
appetite which had already well nigh compassed 
his ruin. And now with a well-filled flask in 
his pocket he was making his way up a desolate 
ravine to “his own private apartment,’* as he 
had laughingly announced before setting out. 

Grant Lucas and one or two others, with 
minds less clouded than the rest, had used their 
( 32 ) 


IN THE TRACK OF THE TORNADO. 33 

utmost efforts to induce him to remain with 
them. They well knew that swift vengeance 
would not fail to pursue him when it became 
known that he had deserted and betrayed his 
colleagues. With Captain Ralph, as he was 
called, desertion meant death to those who had 
been initiated into the rude system which held 
this reckless band together. 

The Quick Gulch miners felt a perfect willing- 
ness to make a common cause with Ted since he 
had undergone so great a risk in their interests ; 
but ‘‘ strong drink is raging, and whosoever is 
deceived thereby is not wise,” so with an ill- 
timed confidence, begotten of drunkenness, Ted 
smilingly told his friends that his room was a 
capital hiding-place, besides being warm and 
dry, and bidding them good-night he started off 
Cautiously making his way in spite of the 
liquor which had gotten into his head, he pro- 
ceeded for some distance up the narrow defile 
of the mountain, and then turning sharply to the 
right began a steeper ascent by means of rude, 
irregular steps formed by the piling together of 
rocks in some upheaval of long ago. 

■Traveling with difficulty in this way for some 
time — for his nerves were far from being steady 
— he came out upon a ledge of rock overlooking 
a yawning black chasm, and grasping the bough 
of a tree he swung himself with a hazardous 
c 


34 STRUGGLING UPWARD. 

effort to the trunk, and climbed down several 
feet, where he alighted on a narrow platform 
capable of seating about twenty men, and inac- 
cessible except by the way in which he had 
come. A small cave just back of this platform 
furnished the secure sleeping apartment of which 
he had spoken. It was truly dry and warm, 
and seemed indeeda place of safety, but ah ! had 
it not been for the liquor in his brain, it was the 
last place which Ted would have chosen as a 
refuge from those whom he now had the great- 
est cause to fear. 

Alas! this wanderer brought thus providen- 
tially under elevating influences, reminded of 
his faithful mother and her prayers, made to see 
the horribleness of the pit of iniquity into which 
he had fallen, had indeed made one effort to 
turn backward from the downward course which 
was carrying him to swift destruction ; but had 
he sought for the strength that is promised to 
the suppliant, and which alone is sufficient for 
these things? Had he placed himself in an 
attitude to. receive the blessing which he so 
much needed ? 

Alas! for the strength of sin! Alas! for the 
power of evil habit over the heart, even when 
roused by a sense of its danger ! He had yielded 
to the enemy of his soul, and now, bound hand 
and foot, he was helplessly awaiting the outward 


IN THE TRACK OF THE TORNADO. 35 

enemies from whom he had sought to hide him- 
self. 

On reaching his supposed harbor he had 
taken another drink from his flask, and was now 
sleeping as he that lieth down in the midst of 
the sea, or as he that lieth upon the top of the 
mast. 

There was an unwonted excitement in the 
camp of the Rangers, when the Captain and the 
rest of the band returned to meet the astounding 
news that Tall Ted, one of their youngest and 
bravest men, had deserted, and besides refusing 
to bring in his quota of cattle, had actually had 
the audacity,” as it was expressed, to turn out 
half a dozen captured by Daring Dick, while the 
latter was asleep. 

The cattle-raid had not proved a success, and 
this new intelligence added fresh cause for the 
ill-humor, if it may be called by so mild a name, 
in which Captain Ralph indulged most freely, 
when his villainous plans did not succeed. 

His first thought was of the mining company, 
and he turned pale with rage at the thought of 
treachery in that direction, for the prior claim 
of which Ted had spoken was held by a man 
as unprincipled as Ralph himself, who had 
promised to share with him the gold which he 
confidently affirmed was sure to be found 
sooner or later. 


STRUGGLING UPWARD, 


While the very thought of such villainy and 
barehanded injustice is abhorrent to our minds, 
let us pause here to ask ourselves, if we are 
always truly just and scrupulously honorable 
in all our intercourse with those by whom we 
are surrounded. We may not violently take* 
possession of our neighbor’s property ; we may 
not over-reach him in our dealings, nor secretly 
connive at his injury by helping to defraud him 
of his rights. But do we seek his welfare in all 
things ? Do we never, by example or precept, 
help to lead him into ways that are not good ? 
Do we ever by silence, or by vaguely expressed 
opinions when his good name is assailed, lend 
our aid in robbing him of what is far better than 
wealth? Do we ever by raillery at his con- 
scientious scruples in matters that may seem 
trivial and of no moment to us, cause our weak 
brother to stumble ? 

Ah, my young friends ! there are thieves, 
robbers and enemies to good, who do not har- 
bor in mountain fastnesses, and whom the world 
does not recognize as such. Let us see to it 
that we are not of them. 

I will not dwell upon the discussion which 
took place among the Rocky Rangers on this 
occasion. I do not wish to reproduce the evil 
sentiments, harshly expressed, of these reckless 
men ; nor do I wish to lead my readers unneces- 


IN THE TRACK OF THE TORNADO. 37 


sarily into a record of their actions in their career 
of crime. The perusal of the exploits of such 
men is debasing in its effects. The interest 
which attaches to many narratives of brigands 
and persons of like character tends to blunt the 
sense of right, and makes the reader lose sight 
of the vileness and deformity of the actors in 
these scenes. 

There is nothing to be admired in a reckless, 
daring defiance of the laws of God and man. 
There is no true bravery in rushing headlong 
into sin ! There is no real heroism but in the 
courage that dares to do the right. And after a 
course of peril and wickedness, what is the end 
of all such as have followed a life of sin ? 

He “shall suddenly be destroyed, and that 
without remedy” — -Prov. xxix. i. . . “The name 
of the wicked shall rot.” — Prov. x. 7. 

Suffice it then to say that after a visit to the 
mining camp, which they found deserted, these 
men tracked the fugitive to the place of his 
retreat. 

Ted had lain in the stupor of intoxication for 
many hours, and the light of day was in his eyes 
when he opened them and caught sight of Sam 
Fry and Lute Smith, two of his old comrades, 
sitting, one on each side of the cave entrance, 
watching him intently. 

At first he was at a loss to know where he 
4 


38 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


was, and why he was there. Then it all came 
back to his memory with a rush, and bearing 
with it the terrible consciousness that he was 
lost ! He was sober now, and at once grasped 
the truth, and understood the fate which awaited 
him. He had heard the details of a scene which 
once took place on this very spot, the narrative 
of which seemed to chill the blood in his veins 
as he recalled it. 

** We would like to give you a chance for your 
life, Ted, if we could,” said one of the men in a 
low tone, seemingly touched by the despair 
written on the prisoner’s pale face. “ You have 
done us a good turn more than once. But it 
would be of no use ; we couldn’t save you, and 
would only get ourselves into trouble. The 
whole band will be here directly.” 

Ted looked up. The narrow view from where 
he sat showed him a cloudy sky. The very 
heavens were dark and frowning and seemed to 
typify the hopelessness of his condition. Ah, 
if he had only, in the days gone by, turned his 
face upward toward the Sun of righteousness ! 

Then he looked inward and backward over 
his past life. He saw, as in a quickly moving 
panorama, the scenes of his boyhood and early 
youth ; his first serious deviation from the right 
way ; his feeble struggle and final yielding to sin. 
He heard again the voice of conscience and lived 


IN THE TRACK OF THE TORNADO. 39 

over again his efforts to stifle the accuser. He 
heard again his mother’s warnings and prayers. 
He saw again the pale, sweet face which grew 
day by day still paler because of his wanderings. 
He saw again the father whose besetting sin had 
brought his family to want and disgrace. Shud- 
deringly he beheld himself following in that 
father’s footsteps ; then step by step the down- 
ward course that swiftly followed. 

Scene after scene came on in rapid succession, 
clear and distinct, until he seemed to have lived 
his life all over again in that brief space of time, 
all down to the present — down to The End^ as 
he said to himself, feeling that the book of his 
life was at its close. 

He would have breathed a prayer to heaven 
for mercy, but he felt that it would be an insult 
to the ears of the Almighty. There was painful 
silence, broken only by the rumbling of the 
•storm which seemed gathering. 

“ They are coming up the defile,” spoke one 
of hfs companions at length ; and despite the 
dread significance, the awful import of the words, 
the sound was welcome to the doomed man. 
Suspense was growing unendurable. 

Another interval of silence followed, and then 
a wood bird, not far away, began to utter a note 
that sounded mournfully distinct in the solitude; 
a single, clear, low note that never varied in its 


40 


STRUGGLING UPWARD, 


pitch, and came at regular intervals, like the 
tolling of a bell. 

“They have reached the stairs,” spoke the 
watcher again, and then the mournful note of 
the bird-call, repeating itself, pierced the dreadful 
stillness, so heavily burdened with thought and 
expectation. 

A little later — hark! There came a united 
exclamation from the guard that was drowned 
in the roar and crash that accompanied the dread, 
cone-shaped cloud as it swept through the moun- 
tain pass carrying everything before it with head- 
long fury and irresistible force. What was now 
the puny bravery of the men who had defied 
even high heaven? What was their boasted 
strength and daring before his breath which 
severed the giant trunks of century-old oaks and 
lifted the rocks from their foundations ? 

The two who had been placed as guards of 
the prisoner shrank cowering within the cave, 
their faces pale with terror at the scene which 
they had witnessed; and the three crouched 
together listening to the roar and crash that was 
now growing fainter and fainter in the distance. 

“ Well,” said one of the guard at length, “ I 
suppose we are off duty as well as Captain Ralph 
and the other boys,” and he gave a little shudder 
at the recollection of what he had just seen. 

“They’ll never know what killed them, I 


IN THE TRACK OF THE TORNADO. 41 

reckon,” said the other. They were all rushed 
over the black rocks together with the stones 
and trunks of trees. Well, I suppose that the 
Captain will hardly ask for mercy, on the plea 
that he has ever showed any. Ugh ! Give us 
a drink, Ted, to steady our nerves a bit ! ” he 
added, seeing the flask protruding from the 
pocket of Ted’s overcoat. 

In response to this request, Ted took the flask 
from his pocket and flung it over the rock as 
far as he could. 

“ Now that is what I call disobliging, not to 
say foolish,” said the other. “ You’ll want that 
whisky bad before you see any more.” 

‘‘Very likely,” answered Ted, “but at least 
we shall not have been so beastly as to get drunk 
in the face of all this.” 

There was no reply; a feeling of awe was 
over all three. As for Ted, this second nar- 
row escape seemed to him like a voice from 
heaven. 

“ Boys,” he said at length with something of 
an eflbrt, “ as you know. I’m no parson and not 
known very far around as an exhorter, but it 
seems to me that we have had a sermon to-day 
that we ought to profit by, especially I. You 
know what I have escaped to-day, and you know 
what fate the others have met. You have seen 
more of what has just taken place than I have^ 

4 * 


42 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


and if the gang is indeed wiped out, yOu and I 
are free to give up the villainous work we pledged 
ourselves to do and lead honest lives. I don’t 
believe you relish being cut-throats and thieves 
any more than I do.” 

“ Come now,” spoke one of his companions, 
** that first is a pretty rough word. I’ve never 
killed anybody that I know of.” 

“ Nor I,” said his comrade. 

*^Nor I,” added Ted, “but if ‘the partaker is 
as bad as the thief,’ there can be little difference 
between a murderer and his followers.” 

The two made no reply to this reasoning. 

“ Well, what do you propose to do ? ” asked 
one of them at length. 

“ I propose to do anything that I can get to 
do, that is honest and will keep life in me until 
I can do better,” answered Ted. “ We haven’t 
led such an easy, luxurious life under Captain 
Ralph that we need to be afraid of hard work. 
Why is it,” he went on, vehemently, “ that men 
will meet toil and privation, and face danger and 
death itself, to take by force what they might 
accumulate by honest labor, counting for nothing 
the peace and quiet of a lawful existence ? Are 
they all ruined and fooled, as boys, by reading 
the trashy literature which makes such a career 
seem desirable? The intoxicating delight of 
daring and prowess — bah ! It is not what they 


IN THE TRACK OF THE TORNADO. 43 


make it seem, and the excitement of such a life 
has lost its charms for me. I have had more 
than enough of it ! ” 

‘‘And I, too,” responded one of the others. 

“ But come,” added Ted, as if the thought had 
just come to him, and seeming naturally to as- 
sume the leadership of those who had lately 
been his guards, “ it is scarcely human to take 
for granted the death of all those men. Some 
of them may be still alive and in need of help.” 

He arose and ascended by the way he had 
come, the others following without a word. 


CHAPTER IV. 


SEARCHING FOR THE LIVING AND THE DEAD. 

“ Thou earnest them away as with a flood ; they are as a 
sleep : in the morning they are like grass which groweth up. 
In the morning it flourisheth and groweth up ; in the evening 
it is cut down, and withereth.” 



AMILIAR as Ted and his companions had 


A been with the wild region which they 
had infested and made their home for many 
months, they were perplexed and hindered at 
nearly every step of the way in their search for 
their former comrades. 

Trees which had stood as lofty guide-posts 
had been swept away. Winding paths along 
the mountain sides had been obliterated by 
coverings of rock, earth, and broken branches, 
while the road was in many places completely 
barricaded with the fallen trunks of immense 
trees that had been twisted asunder like puny 
weeds, by the resistless power which had passed 
over them. 

Slowly, and with painful difficulty, these three 
pursued the route, at all times dangerous, now 


( 44 ) 


*^THE LIVING AMONG THE DEADT 45 

doubly so, which brought them nearer to the 
bottom of the gorge where Captain Ralph and 
all his followers, except themselves, had in all 
probability met their death. 

Every now and then they were obliged 
to retrace their steps to seek for an outlet 
from the almost inextricable mazes of the forest 
wreck. 

If any of those wretched men were still alive, 
they must, long since, have yielded to despair. 
Hours must be spent in the desperate and peril- 
ous effort to reach the bottom of the gorge, and 
when they had reached it, what good could they 
hope to accomplish ? 

Was it in the least probable that even one 
could have survived the terrible catastrophe ? 

Let’s give it up, boys, and go back if we 
can, while we have whole skins,” proposed 
Lute. 

A halt was called and the situation was dis- 
cussed. 

“ It will be as easy to go on now as to go 
back,” argued Ted. “We can follow the canon, 
and come out at Thunder Gap.” 

There was extreme peril to be faced whether 
they decided to advance or retreat, and it was at 
last decided to go on. Every now and then a 
loose stone which had been hurled from above 
would start at the slightest touch, and bound 


46 


STRUGGLING UPWARD, 


down the steep mountain side until it was lost 
in the distance. 

The men moved cautiously and silently 
forward every step of the way, only the falling 
of the stones and the crackling of the branches 
that arrested their progress breaking the still* 
ness, when Sam suddenly stopped short and 
said : “ Listen, boys ! ” 

The others were on the alert in an instant. 
They stood listening for some minutes. 

“ I don’t hear anything,” said Lute at length. 

‘‘ Do be quiet. Lute Smith ! ” answered Sam,, 
impatiently. “ I heard it again, but I couldn’t 
tell from what direction it came for your chat- 
ter.” 

Ted had not spoken, but a little later he 
pointed significantly toward the left, and then 
led the way in the direction which he had indi- 
cated. The party moved slowly forward, stop- 
ping often to listen. No further sound was 
heard for some time, and then there suddenly 
seemed to come from almost beneath their feet 
a groan so prolonged and so burdened with 
mortal agony that the three stout-hearted men 
started at the sound. 

Stooping down to listen, they found that the 
groans came from under a heap of debris which 
the storm had deposited just at the edge of a 
precipice near them. The slightest touch, ap- 


^*THE LIVING AMONG THE DEADT 47 

parently, would have sufficed to topple the whole 
into the abyss beneath.. 

The three set to work carefully to remove, 
with their already lacerated hands, the stones, 
sticks, and earth which hid the sufferer. A cold, 
clenched hand soon came to light, wearing the 
large seal ring of Captain Ralph. The work 
went on and disclosed at length the pale face, 
distorted with pain. 

They did not know whether he was conscious 
or not, but Ted said huskily : “ Keep up heart. 
Captain: well soon have you out of this.” 

Another deep, long-drawn groan was the 
response. Was it all caused by physical pain, 
or were memory and conscience adding to the 
torture by their lashings ? 

When the lighter rubbish was removed, it was 
found that the miserable man was held a pris- 
oner by a large rock which lay across his feet 
and legs, and which alone kept him from the 
yawning depth below, as he lay with one side 
over the edge of the cliff. 

While one grasped the imprisoned wretch’s 
hand, the other two attempted the removal of 
the stone ; but it appeared to be firmly lodged 
where it had fallen, and every effort to move it 
seemed to serve no purpose but to crush and 
grind anew beneath its weight the mangled 
limbs confined under the mighty mass. 


48 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


At last, after what seemed hours of fruitless 
labor, the great boulder toppled over the ledge 
and fell with a crash on the tops of trees, crush- 
ing its way far down, as was judged by the echo 
that came back. 

“ On some of the others, mayhap,’' said Lute 
grimly. However that might have been, there 
was nothing for them to do but to attempt to 
complete the rescue of the suffering one before 
them, if indeed he had not already passed away 
from earth. 

When they drew the limp form from its peril- 
ous position the groans had ceased to come 
from the colorless lips, and the face was like 
that of the dead, yet wearing no touch of the 
chastened peacefulness which dead faces often 
show. 

An examination, however, speedily proved 
that he was still alive, and no serious injuries 
appeared to have been received, except the 
crushing of his lower limbs. A litter was con- 
structed as promptly as circumstances would 
permit, and spreading their coats on this, they 
placed the injured man upon it, and then began 
the desperate attempt to remove him to some 
place where medical assistance could be ob- 
tained. 

If their progress had been slow and difficult 
before, what was it now with the burden they 


^*THE LIVING AMONG THE DEAD:* 


49 


carried? Yet they did not falter from fatigue 
or discouragement at the obstacles encountered. 

Some distance further on they paused, shud- 
deringly, as right in their pathway they en- 
countered the stark, white face and staring eyes 
of Daring Dick. Lowering their burden, they 
made such examination as assured them that he 
was really dead, and then again took up their 
line of march. 

On reaching the mouth of the canon the weary 
bearers were surprised with the welcome* sight 
of the late Quick Gulch Mining Company, in 
the new quarters of which they had just taken 
possession ; and four fresh men, headed by Grant 
Lucas, relieved the tired trio of their dreadful 
burden, and proceeded with it to The Forks, 
where other sufferers had already been taken. 

Poor wretch ! he can harm no one now, and 
but for you, Ted, we too would have been in 
the track of the cyclone,” was all that was said 
as the party moved off. The storm had indeed 
passed in its wildest fury over the spot which 
had been the scene of their daily labor for the 
weary weeks which had brought them no returns. 
The exact locality would now have been difficult 
to find. 

Poor Gills’ house was carried up like a paper 
box,” said Dan Eakins, “and set down over 
beyond the pasture, scattering everything hither 
5 D 


60 


STRUGGLING UPWARD, 


and yon. Poor Walter was picked up stone 
dead, and his wife hasn’t long to live, the doctor 
says, though she knows everything. As for the 
baby, it is not to be found high nor low, and 
the poor creature calls for it in a way that is 
enough to bring tears to the eyes of a stone 
statue.” 

A substantial meal was soon set before Ted 
and his fellows by those whom they had lately 
treated with such gross injustice, and then Sam 
and Lute lay down to take the rest which they 
so much needed. As for Ted, the account, 
rough as it had been, of the poor mother’s 
anguish over the loss of her little one, and the 
thought of the baby’s probable fate, would per- 
mit him to take no repose until he had made an 
effort for the recovery of at least the lifeless re- 
mains of the child. 

Saying nothing of his intention, he left the 
others, and following the path of the storm, he 
saw at length the wreck of the little home under 
whose humble roof he had lately found a hiding- 
place. Going on and on, he searched far and 
wide for a glimpse of the lost child. 

Every hollow, every bush that had escaped 
uprooting and might conceal the tiny form was 
carefully inspected, but to no purpose. 

It must have been carried very far away,” 
he said to himself. He glanced at the declin- 


*^THE LIVING AMONG THE DEADT 51 

ing sun and wondered how much further his 
tired limbs would carry him before darkness 
should come on. On he struggled, never relax- 
ing his vigilant search for a moment. 

An eagle met his eye, circling round and 
round high up in the air, and he wished for its 
tireless wings and piercing eye with which to 
pursue his quest. 

The sight of the great bird did not at first im- 
press the young man as having any significance, 
but the next moment he quickened his steps and 
was hurrying forward as if he had never known 
weariness. 

Watching the wide, spreading wings, and 
steering his course by their movements, he 
pressed on. The direction which he now took 
led him a little to the right of the path of the 
storm, and brought him to a belt of timber which 
bore no traces of the late tornado, except now 
and then broken branches from other trees which 
lodged in the tops of those that stood erect, as 
if in voiceless declaration : “ No feller hath come 
up against us.’* 

Ted now lost sight of the eagle circling above, 
but he knew that it was somewhere nearly over- 
head. Searching with wild intensity, which 
seemed to sharpen his vision as the daylight 
waned, he saw, not many minutes after, an ob- 
ject near the top of one of the highest trees. 


62 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


which he recognized, even at that height, as the 
white apron of little Harry. It had been long 
since Tall Ted of. the Rocky Rangers had ad^ 
dressed a prayer to heaven, but at that moment 
he ejaculated a fervent “ Thank God ! ” 

Then he began to climb the tree, forgetful of 
his weariness and unconscious that his hands 
were bleeding. It seemed to him a token of 
favor that this service was given unto him to do 
as a love-offering to the faithful mother whose 
prayers had followed him even in his wildest 
wanderings. 

As he neared the child he saw that it was 
lodged securely among the upper branches, and 
one little arm hung down, limp and motionless. 
A fear came over him. Was it, after all, only 
the lifeless body that he should be permitted to 
restore to the mother’s arms? He touched it 
gently. The tiny hand was warm and moist, 
and when he grasped the clothing and released 
the light form from its lofty prison the little 
fellow began to scream lustily. 

Holding the child with one hand, descending 
from branch to branch by means of the other, 
he scarcely knew how, Ted at last reached the 
ground. The baby’s clothes were stained with 
blood from his rescuer’s torn hands, but he him- 
self was as safe and sound as he had ever been in 
his own mother’s arms. I will not try to tell you 


*^THE LIVING AMONG THE DEAD:' 53 

of the injured woman’s joy on again seeing her 
darling. He was sleeping soundly when Ted 
brought him to her bedside. 

The physician regarded her condition as very 
critical, and feared that the excitement of joy 
might prove even more injurious than the dumb 
despair into which she had fallen after the first 
agony of her grief. But half an hour later the 
two were sleeping peacefully side by side. 

Yet when the morning light streamed into 
the room the pure-faced young nurse who ten- 
dered her services to the injured woman saw 
that her eyes had opened upon earth for the last 
time. 

“ Walter is gone, is he not ? ” she asked 
quietly. 

“ Is it your husband you mean ? Yes, he is 
dead,” answered the nurse tenderly. 

I thought he came to me last night and 
saidj * The Master is come and calleth for thee.* 
I am ready. Please call him — the one who 
brought me back my baby in his torn and bleed- 
ing hands.” 

Ted, who had watched all night with Captain 
Ralph, was summoned as quickly as possible. 

“ Young man,” she said, addressing him, and 
there was something awe-inspiring in her pure, 
peaceful tones; “I give the child to you. You 
saved his life. Will you take care of him and 
5 * 


64 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


teach him to fear God and walk in the way of 
his commandments ? ” 

The listener stood with bowed head and quiv- 
ering face. It was a moment which he could 
never forget. 

“ I’ll do my best, God helping me,” he an- 
swered. 

“ Then all is well,” she said, closing her eyes 
as if to sleep. And so she passed away. 

Far different was the scene which was being 
enacted in a room not far away from this cham- 
ber of peace. The doctors had found it neces- 
sary to amputate both of Captain Ralph’s legs, 
and having no anaesthetics at hand the operation 
was necessarily agony to the subject. Yet this 
physical pain was not his keenest torture. The 
thought of his utter helplessness, the thought 
of the mutilated frame which he must wear 
through life — if life was spared — was, to the 
proud, wicked man, far worse than all the rest 
He had prided himself on his strength, on his 
superb height and finely proportioned frame; 
and now to be the maimed object which on 
yesterday, had he met it in the person of another, 
he would have spurned from beneath his feet ! 
He had been the most fearless rider and tireless 
walker in all the region. 

Poor, miserable man ! he had no thought for 
the immortal soul whose growth he had stunted, 


THE LIVING AMONG THE DEAD: 


55 


whose development he had hindered by indul- 
gence in sin ; whose beauty he had defaced until 
it had well-nigh lost all likeness to its heavenly 
Creator. And yet the horrors of the lost were 
before him. At one moment he would beg his 
attendants to end a life which must be henceforth 
too groveling for his proud spirit to endure, and 
the next he would cry out to be saved from the 
torments of the lost in the world of woe. 

None knew how brief might be the “ beastly 
life ” of which he spoke with such blasphemous 
fury, nor how near the death from which he 
shrank — the death that never dies ! 

My reader, if there were no other proof of the 
genuineness of the Christian religion than the 
contrast between the state of mind — in view of 
death — of those who have been followers of 
Jesus, and those who have blasphemed his name 
and scoffed at all holy things, no reasonable 
man could have room to doubt. I know that 
it has been often urged that the godless can die 
as bravely as the Christian, and I admit that 
some, given over to believe a lie as to eternal 
things, or else upheld by a Lucifer-like pride, 
have given no sign of the horrors about to be 
endured, but exceptional cases of this kind can- 
not render less emphatic the widely general rule 
that the Christian dies in peace and confidence, 
knowing in whom he has believed^ and the sinner 


66 


STRUGGLING UPWARD, 


leaves this world in fearful uncertainty, or ap- 
pears to enter on his torment in this life. 

David Nelson, for years a physician, in the 
course of his professional career was called to 
witness many deaths. The tranquil confidence 
with which some, who had been constitutionally 
timid and shrinking all their lives, entered on 
the unseen world, compared with the awful de- 
parture of those who had boasted that they could 
die as fearlessly as Christians, was largely a 
means of his rescue from the pit of infidelity. 

The yoke of Christ is easy and his burden is 
light. His smile will render brighter and sweeter 
all the true joys that this life can offer ; and oh, 
when the short space of our journey here is 
ended, and the trembling feet are standing on 
the border line between this world and the great 
beyond, what then can give peace and comfort 
but the presence of Jesus ? What can sustain 
us except the assurance that we are not “ taking 
a leap into the dark,” as a dying deist once said, 
but going home to our Father’s house of many 
mansions ? 


CHAPTER V. 


A BABY IN THE CAMP. 

** Take heed that ye despise not one -of these little ones ; for 
I say unto you, That in heaven their angels do always behold 
the face of my Father which is in heaven.” 

M onths had passed since the storm had 
swept like an avenging spirit through 
the wild region where good and evil lived in 
such close proximity. In the woodside ceme- 
tery the fresh grass was springing green, in spite 
of the frost, among the new-made graves. The 
wild birds sang alike above the resting-place of 
the Christian mother, who had passed away in 
peace, and that of the reckless outlaw whose life 
had been one protracted insult to high heaven, 
and whose death had been despair. 

Subsequent bright, calm days had dissipated 
the feelings of terror inspired by the tornado 
and its fearful work, and like those who rebuild 
cities destroyed by earthquakes, many of the in- 
habitants of this region had resumed their habits 
and manner of living, without much thought of 
what had taken place. 


( 57 ) 


58 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


Yet there were changes in certain quarters. 
‘‘ The Rocky Rangers ” had ceased to be. Of 
the late lawless band three only had been left ; 
and if it cannot be said that the dispensation 
of Providence, which had spoken so directly and 
emphatically to them, had wrought their reforma- 
tion, it was at least certain that some progress 
had been made in that direction. If it was only 
the lopping off of the evil practices which had 
made the gang a terror and a disgrace to the 
locality, it was better for those about them ; but 
a more radical change than this was necessary 
for their salvation from sin and its attendant 
troubles. 

Sam Fry and Lute Smith had pre-empted a 
tract of land at some distance from the scene 
of their former career, and were at least en- 
deavoring to live honestly. Ted had cast in his 
lot with the mining company, which now meet- 
ing with better success than formerly, was 
working industriously at the point known as 
Thunder Gap. 

Some bond of sympathy and fellow-feeling 
held these men together like a family, and 
they shared their gains and had all things in 
common. 

On a bright, cool morning the camp pre- 
sented a breakfast scene similar to that witnessed 
by Ted on his former visit to the company at 


A BABY IN THE CAMP. 


59 


Quick Gulch ; but with this marked difference, 
he was now breakfasting with the others, and 
there was in addition the novel spectacle of a 
baby in the camp. 

The child was seated on a goods box covered 
with a blanket, as on a little throne, in the 
centre of the group, and if those rough-looking 
men did not crown him as king, the demeanor 
of some present toward him was certainly that 
of loyal subjects. Grant Lucas and Ted were 
talking in a low tone a little apart from the others, 
and the latter was saying : “ No, Grant, you 
boys have been too good to me by far, but I 
must look out for myself and the baby. Don’t 
say anything to the rest. I must go to The 
Forks to-day anyway to see about that last milk. 
It wasn’t the right brand. If they have none 
that is better we must make some arrangement 
to get fresh milk,” he added in a louder tone, for 
the benefit of one of the men who seemed to be 
listening. It was Dan Eakins, who had stopped 
near the talkers. He now moved off, and Ted 
continued. 

“Of course I shall be obliged to take him 
away some time.” 

“ Certainly,” answered Grant, “ but there’s 
sure to be a row in the camp.” 

“ The sooner the better then,” announced 
Ted. 


60 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


Yes, no doubt you are right, assented the 
other, who, although uniformly kind to the child, 
had never made a pet of him as the others had 
done. 

He now looked attentively at the little one as 
he held up his tin cup and called out, 

“ More milk, more milk ! ” 

“ Yes, he is getting the rough ways of the camp 
already,” he said laughing. 

When the meal was over and the pipes lighted, 
Ted observed : 

“Well, boys. I’m going over to The Forks 
this morning and — ” he hurried on and made a 
marked effort to speak in a matter of fact tone 
— “ I guess I’ll take the baby with me. He 
is beginning to need some new clothes — and — 
new milk,” he added somewhat incoherently. 

“ No need to take the child to get the clothes,” 
spoke up one of the men confidently. “ His 
measure will do just as well. My wife — ” here 
he gave a little sigh — “ used just to measure 
around her shoulders and then around her waist 
and send to New York for clothes, and they 
would fit to perfection.” 

“ But you know children are more difficult to 
fit,” answered Ted. “ Besides I want him to 
pick something for himself with the money you 
boys have given him,” he continued rather 
guiltily. 


A BABY IN THE CAMP. 


61 


** Pshaw, Ted ! ” began another, when he was 
abruptly, and not very wisely, interrupted by 
Ted. 

** I say, men, while I think of it, I have a re- 
quest to make.” 

“ Hear ! ” called out several. 

“It is just this, that you will never call me 
by that name again. It’s not my name as an 
honest man, and I wish I might never hear it 
again.” 

“ Let the past be past,” said Grant quietly. 

“ Thank you,” answered the speaker ; “ that is 
what I would like, since I cannot blot it out 
altogether. My real name is Frederic. Please 
call me Fred; the change will not come very 
awkward, I think.” 

So “ Tall Ted ” was heard of no more in the 
circle of his friends. 

“ But see here ! ” put in one of the men 
brusquely, “this reads a little like parting re- 
quests, farewell revelations and all that kind of 
thing ; and putting this and that together, I want 
to know if you are thinking of sneaking off with 
that baby.” 

“I’d rather not, boys,” began Fred, as we 
' shall now call him. 

“ Rather not ! ” echoed a chorus of voices, 
and the “ row ” which Grant Lucas had foretold 
seemed to be impending. 

6 


62 


STRUGGLING UPWARD, 


See here, fellows,” spoke up that individual 
firmly, “ don’t be unreasonable and silly. The 
child belongs to him, and not to you.” 

There was no intelligible reply to this, but an 
indistinct murmur arose like a distant storm. 

“ I say, T’ — Fred, I don’t think it is hardly 
fair of you anyhow to exercise your rights in 
this way, even granting that you have them, 
which I suppose we can’t deny,” said one at last. 
“ You know we are all attached to the child.” 

** Much ado about nothing ! ” proclaimed an- 
other with great indifference in his voice and 
manner. ** The sun is getting up and I’m off. 
Good-bye, everybody,” and he walked off hur- 
riedly as if fearing to lose more time — or cour- 
age. 

** The truth is, comrades,” said Fred, these 
diggings are too small for so many of us, and you 
all know that as well as I do. Besides I feel as 
if my duty is calling me away. If any of my 
friends are living, I owe it to them to try to 
make some amends for the trying experiences I 
have caused them. And then there is the re- 
sponsibility of bringing up of that child. You 
know I promised, boys,” he continued, flushing 
hotly at seeing something very like amusement 
in the eyes of some of his audience ; ‘‘ and prom- 
ises to the dead should at least be held sacred. 
I doubt not there are some of you better fitted for 


A BABY IN THE CAMP. 63 

the task — Grant there, for instance — ^but I cannot 
delegate my work to any one.” 

Grant uttered a low sound that was very like 
a groan, but made no other answer. 

“Well, boys,” said Fred at last, “ I’ll bring him 
back this time, I give you my word of honor.” 

So the evil day was put off, and the men went 
away in squads to their work, while Fred set off 
for The Forks. His journey led him past the 
spot which had once been the baby’s home, and 
past the quiet city of the dead where the little 
one’s friends were sleeping. The helpless child, 
unconscious of the change which had come into 
his life, unconscious of his bereavement, was 
clinging trustingly to the neck of his foster 
father, and the confidence awoke anew in the 
heart of the young man the resolve to do well 
his part toward the treasure committed to his 
keeping. 

Beside the grave of that mother he repeated 
the promise which he had made to her, as if she 
could hear him and be reassured. Ah ! if he 
had but promised it to his God, and petitioned 
humbly for divine strength to perform that which 
he had promised ! 

When the sinking sun was sending long, 
golden beams through the spaces between the 
trunks of the big trees of Thunder Gap, Fred 


64 


STRUGGLING UPWARD, 


appeared, true to his promise, carrying the baby 
and a bundle containing, among other purchases, 
a supply of the “ right brand ” of condensed 
milk. The other workers had not yet come in, 
but Dan Eakins was moving briskly about, pre- 
paring the evening meal. 

“ Your supper smells tantalizingly good to 
hungry fellows like baby and me,” said Fred. 
** What are you cooking, Dan ? ” 

“ Venison ! ” announced the cook triumph- 
antly. “ Got a quarter, of a squaw who hap- 
pened along about an hour ago. Didn’t you 
meet her ? ” 

Fred answered in the negative. 

“ Why, I supposed she would go over, to The 
Forks. She wanted ‘ fire-water ’ for her pay, 
but we hadn’t any to spare, so I gave her the 
money after I had made sure that the meat was 
fresh.” 

The others soon began to come in. The 
baby’s supper was prepared, and everything went 
on as merrily as if nothing unusual had oc- 
curred. 

“ What did you get for the child to wear ? ” was 
asked of Fred during the progress of the meal. 

“ Only a little hat and an overcoat. I was 
obliged to wait for the rest to be made up ; but 
a woman has the job in hand, and the outfit will 
be all right.” 


A BAB Y IN THE CAMP, 65 

''An overcoat ! ” ejaculated Grant Lucas. 
** Who ever saw a baby of that age in an over- 
coat?’^ 

“ Well, he needed something real warm and 
thick,” answered Fred. “ I got the smallest one 
I could find. The sleeves are rather long, and 
it is big every way, but it will keep him from 
freezing all the same.” 

Fred got the article in question and tried 
it on the child. It was necessary to roll the 
sleeves back for several inches, and the fair 
baby head, with its yellow hair and blue eyes, 
peeped cunningly from the depth of the velvet 
collar. 

Bravo ! ” called out one, laughing, as the 
small specimen of manhood was placed upon 
his feet in the trailing garment. 

Long live king Harry ! ” shouted another. 

“A bumper on that,” said a third, and a bottle 
and glass were soon in circulation round the 
table. When they came to Fred he made a 
feeble attempt to pass them by him, but this was 
not permitted. 

“A drink to the baby’s health is not going 
to hurt you, man,” protested his neighbor, 
and the awakened appetite caused by the 
sight and smell of the liquor, and the never 
sleeping tempter, completed the conquest of the 
man. 

6* E 


66 


STRUGGLING UPWARD, 


Alas ! that it must be told ; evil prevailed ! Dan 
had said that they had no ** fire-water ” to spare, 
but they had enough to work the undoing of 
every man in the camp. All had some redeem- 
ing traits of character, and a part, at least, bore 
like hidden charms some marks of the higher 
grade of society in which they had been reared. 
But what is so degrading as the intoxicating 
cup ? The glass went round and round, and 
there was no further need of urging any one to 
partake. Stories were told, and roars of laughter 
went up. 

In spite of the noise, the baby fell asleep and 
Fred put him to bed. He did not take him, as 
usual, to the shanty which he and Grant occu- 
pied together, and in which a snug crib had 
been arranged for the child, but placed him in 
the hammock under the oak where the little 
fellow took his naps by day. He was with 
difficulty deposited in the swinging cot, still en- 
veloped in the overcoat. It was well, for Fred 
was not in a condition to reflect that the air was 
growing colder, and that extra covering would 
be needed. 

When he returned to the company he was 
called on for a song. Then there arose on the 
clear evening air a vile bacchanalian song, a 
profanation of this one of “ God’s first temples.’* 
The other voices gradually took up the chorus 


A BABY IN THE CAMP. 67 

until the great solitudes rang with their unholy 
mirth. 

Another and then another was called for, 
and the revelry was kept up far into the night 
under the pure air of heaven. After a time 
the voices dropped off one by one, until only 
that of the leader was heard as it thickly reiter- 
ated with disgusting repetition the maudlin and 
haltingly expressed refrain of the last drunken 
glee. 

Then silence swallowed up the disgraceful 
echoes, and only the moon and stars looked on 
the sad scene. 

There were mothers, wives, and sisters who 
in their evening devotions, far away, had prayed 
for the safety and well-being of some of those 
who had thus debased themselves and laid the 
strength of their manhood low. But was there 
one in all the wide world to pray for the baby ? 
Danger was lurking near to his little bed ; was 
there one to send heavenward a petition for his 
preservation ? 

The one who had solemnly promised to take 
care of him had violated the promise lately 
renewed, and of the sacredness of which he had 
lately spoken. His boasted protectors had all 
failed him. Those who would, one and all, 
have risked their lives in his defence, had 
yielded supinely to the evil onc^ to be taken 


68 


STRUGGLING UPWARD, 


captive at his will, and now, as strong men 
bound hand and foot, while stealthy feet drew 
near, they lay sleeping the sleep of drunken- 
ness ! 


) 




\ 


/ 



CHAPTER VI. 


THE EMPTY CRADLE. 


‘*They shall not drink wine with a song; strong drink 
shall be bitter to them that drink it.” 



‘HE stars had finished their watch, and sun- 


-L light was touching the tops of the moun- 
tains with gold, when the men awoke from their 
long, heavy sleep, chilled with the exposure 
which they had met, for strong drink, instead 
of rendering a man impervious to cold, as is 
sometimes claimed, lays wide the avenues for 
exposure to work its worst upon his system. 

Some awoke with headache, others with the 
miserable confusion of brain which follows 
drunkenness. There was nothing now apparent 
of the “jolly good-fellowship” of which they 
had talked and sung on the night before. Little 
was said, and that little impatient and fault- 
finding. 

They anathematized the keen air for chilling 
them so thoroughly, and Dan Eakins for not 
having a roaring fire and breakfast ready. As 
for Dan, his plight was no better than that of 


( 69 ) 


70 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


the others. He ached in every limb, and every 
movement cost him an effort. He angrily told 
his companions to go to The Forks for their 
breakfast if they couldn’t wait till the fire burned 
in camp. 

To Fred, returning consciousness brought bit- 
ter humiliation and self-reproach. He thought of 
his late aspirations after a higher and better life. 
He thought of his promise to that dying mother 
whose confidence in him had seemed so strong. 
He thought of his reiteration of that promise at 
her grave on yesterday. He thought of his own 
mother, of whom her prayer had reminded him, 
and of the yearning with which his heart had 
lately turned to her memory with ever increasing 
tenderness and love. What were his aspirations 
— what were his resolutions worth ? He almost 
wished that the Rangers had ended his life be- 
fore he had sunk into this last degradation, this 
last violation of his conscience. But what of 
the baby ? How had the poor little fellow fared 
throughout the night with no one to give him a 
drink of milk, or see that he was warm and 
comfortable? Fred rose with an effort, his 
head swimming at the movement, and went to 
the shanty with a slow, despondent step. He 
almost felt that it was desecration on his part to 
touch the child after his share in last night’s 
carousal. 


THE EMPTY CRADLE. 


71 


Come to breakfast, then, if you are all so 
near starvation ! ” proclaimed Dan ungraciously ; 
and the men crowded around the rude tables. 
But few were hungry ; they drank the hot cof- 
fee greedily, even while they complained of its 
muddiness and pronounced it “ weak slop unfit 
for swine.” 

*^Then don’t drink it all up before I get a 
single cup, as you did the last time ! ” retorted 
Dan. 

One word followed another, and language was 
thrown back and forth which would not bear 
repetition. It was a fitting scene to follow that 
of the night before. 

A little later Fred came hurriedly from his 
quarters, all his listlessness of manner gone. 

Where is the baby ? ” he asked excitedly. 

‘‘ I reckon you ought to know,” said Jeff 
Symmes, the one who on yesterday had been 
disposed to question Fred’s right to take the 
child away. 

Grant Lucas got up hastily and went to the 
shanty, soon returning with the statement that 
the child had not been put to bed last night. 

I expect he has crawled off in the bushes 
somewhere, while we were asleep,” suggested 
Dan. 

“ While we were drunk I ” Fred’s reproachful 
thoughts made correction. 


72 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


A search was at once commenced. No 
further thought was given to the coffee, and the 
broiled venison remained untouched. The 
quest was fruitless, however, though a circle was 
formed and every foot was carefully examined 
far beyond the distance to which the child could 
possibly have made his way. 

“Are you sure you didn’t carry him back 
to The Forks last night ? ” asked Jeff suspiciously. 

“ Very sure,” answered Fred ; and the look of 
pain in his face was sufficient pledge that he 
knew nothing of the baby’s whereabouts. 

Work was not thought of. The men wan- 
dered about in groups, and talked only of the 
missing child. There were fears which no one 
expressed, as to its probable fate, and a deep 
gloom hung over all. 

As for Fred, his feelings cannot be described. 
The little one had found a place in his heart 
which a baby brother had filled in years gone 
by, and his pain was keen enough, even without 
the constant goadings of his self-reproach. 

They met at the camp an hour later for re- 
port, but no one had any report to make. The 
search had proved so utterly fruitless that not a 
sign of the thief had been discovered. 

As the men sat down in a depressed way, more 
than one pair of eyes was turned sadly to the 
little hammock above their heads. 


THE EMPTY CRADLE. 


73 


All at once Fred sprang to his feet. " Why, 
boys/’ he exclaimed, ‘‘ I’ve just thought of it. I 
remember now ; I put him to bed in the ham- 
mock last night.” 

A half phout rose, but died away again as the 
question of the child’s safety there suggested 
itself. 

Fred had been seated at some little distance 
from the place, but he rushed to the spot before 
the others could rise to their feet. 

Alas ! the hope was a short-lived one ! The 
hammock was empty. 

“ Why, in the name of all that is crack-brained, 
did you put him there ? ” asked a voice wrath- 
fully. 

“ Jeff Symmes, there is no use in asking foolish 
questions ! ” protested Grant Lucas. ** You 
know that Fred was drunk last night as well as 
you and I. The blame rests on us all alike,” 
kicking furiously with his heavy boot a half- 
filled bottle that lay in the grass, the remains of 
last night’s bacchanal. The bottle was shivered 
with the blow and the contents splashed around. 
Would not the gain. far exceed the loss if every 
drop that is manufactured were poured upon the 
ground ? 

Fred sat down under the empty hammock as 
if stunned. A half hope had arisen only to set 
in a new despair. He thought of the experiences 

7 


74 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


of the past months. Twice had his own life 
been spared as by a special providence ; twice 
had he been enabled to save that of the little 
child, which had later been placed in his care, 
and which he had gradually learned to love as 
if it was his own flesh and blood. 

Had the baby sickened and died while faith- 
fully cared for, it would have been indeed a blow, 
but his disappearance and the thought of what 
fate might await him was rendered tenfold 
more painful, inasmuch as the disappearance 
was through his own criminal carelessness and 
neglect. 

It was no consolation to Fred to reflect that 
had he been in his right mind he would not 
have been thus careless and neglectful of his 
charge. He had deliberately put an enemy into 
his mouth to steal away his brains. His thoughts 
went back to the painful eagerness with which 
he had prosecuted the search for the missing 
little one in the track of the storm ; of the hope 
of success mingled with the terrible fear that 
he might be too late, which had seized him 
at sight of the great, dark bird circling above 
the spot where he felt that the child had been 
thrown. 

“ Grant, will you come with me ? ” he asked, 
springing to his feet suddenly, his face white 
and set. 


THE EMPTY CRADLE. 


75 


** Thanks, boys ; no one else,” he added, see- 
ing others about to offer themselves. 

He went off hastily, his friend following his 
long, striding steps. On and on they went, 
through the forest, up and down mountain sides, 
hurrying on as if for life. Neither spoke a word 
as they traveled mile after mile, Fred keeping 
in advance and Grant following unquestioningly. 

Their way now lay in the direction which 
Fred had taken on the day of the storm, when 
he went to find a place of safety in the cave. 

On reaching the rocky staircase, before men- 
tioned, he paused for the first time and said 
huskily : “ The eyrie is just beyond those rocks: 
over there,” pointing with a hand that was 
trembling. ” I shall be obliged to descend by 
this tree. Wait here for me. If I need you I 
will shout.” 

Grant nodded assent and Fred soon disap- 
peared. On reaching the platform in front of 
the cave he went to the extreme narrow end, 
and, lying down on his face, crawled carefully 
along a narrow ledge in which it terminated. 
As he made his way along this perilous projec- 
tion it grew more and more narrow until the 
eagle’s nest was almost reached, when it widened 
again perceptibly. 

Then came the whir of mighty wings and the 
wild screams of the mountain birds^ and then 


76 STRUGGLING UPWARD. 

the seeker forgot everything for a time in sick- 
ening horror of what he might see at the next 
moment. 

A little later he was worming his way back- 
ward along the rock by which he had come. A 
faintness again came over him as he once more 
reached a place of safety, and he sat down for a 
moment at the foot of the tree by which he had 
descended to the platform. When he finally re- 
appeared, Grant had grown uneasy at his long 
absence and was about to descend to make an 
investigation. 

“ Thank God, he is not there ! ” was all he said 
on again meeting his friend; yet the thought 
came to both men, sickeningly, that this was not 
the only eagle’s nest in all that wild region. 

“ Let us take different routes and meet at the 
camp,” proposed Grant. “ Something may have 
happened there before this time.” 

Fred assented and they separated, each keep- 
ing up the search that seemed hourly to grow 
more and more hopeless. 

In the meantime those who had been left be- 
hind had set on foot another hunt and were in- 
dustriously scouring the woods — all except Jeff 
Symmes. 

Jeff could not forget that only on yesterday 
Fred had virtually confessed to thoughts of re- 
moving the child by stealth. Might it not be. 


THE EMPTY CRADLE. 


77 


he argued with himself, that Fred had carried 
the baby back to The Forks while under the 
influence of liquor, and had himself forgotten it? 
He could not suspect him of acting a part, after 
seeing the look of pain on the young fellow’s 
pale face when he had sat down under the empty 
hammock that morning, but neither could he 
shake off the idea that haunted him; so Jeff 
went over to The Forks to look for the lost 
child. Like all the others, he was doomed to 
disappointment. 

He made his fruitless trip by a short cut 
through the woods, but came back by the road. 
As he went along moodily with his eyes on the 
ground, he saw in the unfrequented way foot- 
prints which must have been Fred’s on his return, 
and also scattered along the narrow road the 
candy mottoes dropped by the baby as he regaled 
himself on the treat which had been given him 
at the store. Jeff also made one other discovery 
which might or might not be important, he 
thought. At a certain turning in the road he 
saw evidences that some human being, or animal, 
had leaped across the path not far behind Fred, 
alighting partly in the tracks which he had 
made. 

It was impossible to discover what had made 
the marks in the yielding soil, but Jeff soon 
came tc the conclusion that the alighting in the 


78 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


footprints had been premeditated. He saw evi- 
dences that there had been an attempt to con- 
ceal a trail which he followed for a little distance 
just in the edge of the wood. 

On reaching the camp Jeff found it entirely 
deserted, and sat down to wait with some im- 
patience for the return of the absent. 

The others in their search had found what 
might prove a clue to the missing child — a small 
square of pasteboard bearing a printed number 
and fresh pencil marks, which the finder told his 
fellows might have been the price-card attached 
to the little overcoat. 

The point at which it was found was carefully 
noted and a trail therefrom in some direction 
was eagerly sought for, but without success. 

On returning to the camp they found that 
Fred and Grant had not yet returned, but Jeff 
was there with his discovery, which though 
slight might be significant notwithstanding. The 
little card was displayed, and the subject of a 
wider and more careful search was discussed, 
Dan was speedily set to work to prepare supper, 
for few of the men having eaten either breakfast 
or dinner, the need of fod’d was beginning to be 
felt. 

Grant and Fred came in not long after, having 
met a few rods from camp, but their faces told 
of no good tidings. 


THE EMPTY CRADLE. . 


79 


** Cheer up, boys ; we have what may start us 
on the right track, small as it is,” said Lloyd 
Watson, the one who had found the card. 

He produced the tiny bit of pasteboard and 
told where he found it. 

“ Is it the card that was on the baby’s new 
overcoat, Fred ? ” he asked. 

I saw no card on the coat, but I can soon 
learn,” answered Fred, and snatching the card 
he disappeared in a moment. 

“ Wait,” shouted Grant; “let some one who 
is fresh go,” but there came back no response 
as Fred made his way through brush and over 
rocks the nearest way to The Forks. 

While he was on this errand those who awaited 
the result again discussed the situation. Jeff 
stoutly declared his belief that something or 
somebody had followed Fred home last night, 
repeating an account of what he had discovered 
in the road. 

Dan Eakins, who was turning griddle-cakes, 
suddenly turned round : “ It couldn’t have been 
that squaw, I reckon,” he said. 

“ What squaw ? ” demanded Grant. 

“ Why, the creature, who sold me the venison 
last evening,” answered Dan. 

“ Why didn’t you speak of this before ? ” was 
demanded, sternly. 

“ I thought I did,” was answered in a be- 


80 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


wildered way. “ I hadn’t thought of her to-day. 
Anyway, it couldn’t have been the squaw, for 
she didn’t know that we had a baby ; she came 
and went away while Fred was gone with the 
child.” 

“ Yes, and saw him on the way and tracked 
him home, no doubt. Dan, I believe you have 
been a little drunker than any of the rest of us ! ” 
was the withering reply. 

** Maybe I have,” answered Dan, meekly, 
“ but the loss of the baby somehow knocked the 
squaw out of my head.” 

The relief was so great that some of the 
men actually laughed at Dan’s crestfallen de- 
meanor and the unwonted humility of his 
words. Yet the censure which he had received 
was unjust. He had not been more intoxicated 
than the others, and he had told Fred of the 
Indian woman’s visit to the camp, and Fred, too, 
through the befogging influence of liquor, had 
lost sight of the fact. 

Well, all’s well that ends well,” spoke Grant 
again. ‘‘ If the thieving creature has the child, 
he is probably as yet unharmed, and when 
Fred returns we will stait out again and hunt 
her down. The work can wait without spoil- 
ing. 

In what seemed an incredibly short time, 
Fred returned, stating, breathlessly, that the 


THE EMPTY CRADLE, 


81 


card bore the combination of letters used by the 
store at The Forks, which stood for the exact 
amount which he had paid for the coat. 

Supper was served at once, and all were on 
the alert for the big hunt which was now to be 
entered upon with renewed hope of success, 
r 


CHAPTER VIL 


JOY AMONG THE ANGELS. 


“Ah, Lord God ! behold, thou hast made the heaven and 
the earth by thy great power and stretched-out arm, and there 
is nothing too hard for thee.” 



LTHOUGH the path of right and duty is 


laid plain to those who seek it sincerely ; 
although the voice saying “ This is the way, 
walk ye in it,” may always be heard for the 
listening; how often we are bewildered and 
perplexed, and ask ourselves confusedly for the 
way wherein we may walk and the thing which 
we may do. 

Ask ourselves! Yes, there is the secret. 
We have been following our own inclina- 
tions, and have wandered so far from the right 
way that we have lost sight of it. If we would 
only learn to believe that there is no good way 
but God’s way, and that it is not in man that 
walketh to direct his steps, and submit ourselves 
to be guided by the unerring One, how much 
of trial and sorrow we should spare ourselves 
even in this world ! 


( 82 ) 


JOY AMONG THE ANGELS. 83 

Following the straight path we may pass 
securely and with unwavering confidence through 
the darkest ways and over the roughest and 
most trying passages of our lives, because we 
shall be assured that at the end he will bring us 
out into a fair place. 

We should not accept this truth abstractly, 
but firmly trust that he will guide us whenever 
we ask to be directed. 

Of all these friends of the lost child, there were 
few whose thoughts ever turned to that One who 
has said: ** I will guide thee with mine eye;’* 
and ** Ask for the old paths, where is the good 
way ; ” and while they saw with humiliation and 
self-reproach the result of their late evil wander- 
ing from the right way, they did not view it in 
the light of a sin against God. 

Of all that company of men who again set 
out resolving to travel until they found the baby, 
there was only one who petitioned Heaven for 
guidance and direction ; only one who vowed to 
seek him who called little children unto him, 
and who has said, “ Come unto me, all ye that 
labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you 
rest.” 

They went together to the spot where the card 
had been found, and then separating into several 
companies, prosecuted their search in as many 


84 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


directions, radiating from this centre, for no trail 
could be discovered. 

Only Dan had been left behind to look after 
the camp. This arrangement was very much 
against his will, and in the face of his statement 
that he was the most expert scout in all that 
country round about.” 

Fred and Grant went off together, guiding 
their course by the sun, which appeared from 
behind the mountain and rose higher and higher, 
while the two traveled on untiringly, still finding 
no trace of what they were seeking — the remains 
of a camp-fire, or some other signs of humanity. 
They said but little, yet the thoughts of each 
were busy. They noted the fact when the sun 
had reached the meridian, but made no halt. 
There was no time for idling. Every minute 
might render the chances less for recovering the 
stolen child, if indeed it had been kidnapped by 
the squaw, of which fact they tried to feel as- 
sured. 

And yet, in case they should fail to recover 
it, death would be far preferable for the little 
one ! The two alternatives presented themselves 
with horrible distinctness to Fred’s conscious- 
ness — he who had promised to take care of the 
child, and he reproached himself anew. 

Late in the afternoon, as the two were plod- 
ding silently onward, looking out with keen 


joy AMONG THE ANGELS. 85 

alertness for the slightest token, a tiny paper 
fluttering among the leaves caught the eye of 
Fred, and he hastened to secure it. It was 
unmistakably a candy paper. 

‘‘Eureka!” he exclaimed, hurrying back to 
his companion. “ The baby has been eating the 
bonbons in his coat pocket, and has given us a 
clue — ^bless him ! ” 

The weariness which had been stealing over 
the two was gone. The speed was increased, 
and fresh tokens looked for on every side ; but 
they went on and on and found no more papers. 

Suddenly Grant said softly : 

“ Hist ! Steal up quietly, and make no sign 
unless she starts to run.” 

Looking in the direction indicated by his 
companion, Fred saw in the way before them 
an Indian woman stooping down, apparently 
clearing away the leaves. She did seem to have 
discovered them, and they drew nearer and still 
nearer until it was plain that she lacked the 
quick sense of hearing for which her people are 
noted, or else that she was simulating ignorance 
of their presence. She was digging as if for 
roots. The two stood watching her, still silent. 
At last she spoke as if to herself. 

“ Ugh ! hard work hurts ! ” she exclaimed. 

“There are some other things that hurt 
worse,” said Grant Lucas, meaningly. There 
8 


86 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


was silence again, the two men taking a position 
one on each side of the squaw, at a little distance. 
She dug away, seemingly untroubled by this 
demonstration. 

Fred was almost uncontrollably impatient to 
demand a knowledge of the whereabouts of the 
child, taking it for grafted that this was the 
abductor, but Grant, who had assumed the lead- 
ership, gave him a signal to wait. 

After a time this member of the taciturn race 
seemed to grow dissatisfied with the continued 
silence. Her stolid face grew a trifle vexed and 
her movements hurried. A little later she broke 
the silence again. 

“ Know any white man lost a pappoose ? ” 
she inquired innocently, still working away at 
her roots, and never raising her eyes. “ Squaw 
saw white woman carrying off little white pap- 
poose,” she went on, not waiting for an answer. 

“ Squaw very poor — dig roots. Give squaw 
plenty money, bring back little white pappoose.” 

Grant smiled in a satisfied way, but Fred made 
an involuntary movement toward her. From 
her next words she evidently thought that the 
movement meant danger, though she continued 
her digging, and her dusky face showed no 
change of expression. 

“ White man kill squaw, white man never see 
little white pappoose,” she said indifferently. 


JOY AMONG THE ANGELS. 87 

“No one is going to kill you,” spoke up 
Grant. “We will give you plenty of money. 
Bring the pappoose safe to this spot and you 
shall have it. So much,” he continued, holding 
out his two hands to indicate that the quantity of 
^:oin which she might expect was as much as his 
hands would hold. 

“ Now be quick,” he concluded, “ and we will 
meet you here with the money and a blanket to 
boot.” 

“ No more white men ? ” asked the Indian 
woman distrustfully. 

“ No more,” answered Grant, heartily. “ Only 
we two,” pointing to his companion and then to 
himself. 

The squaw gave a grunt of approval and dis- 
appeared, leaving her roots and the tool with 
which she had been digging. 

At Fred’s earnest request Grant remained at 
the place appointed for the meeting, while he re- 
traced his weary way to camp for the ransom. 

“ I know the woods better than you. I ought 
to know them well, you know,” he had pleaded, 
and Grant had yielded the point, only saying, 

“ You will find the little bag of coin in my 
box. I have had it a long time, and I’ll never 
find a better use for it, I reckon.” 

The sun rapidly declined and then disappeared, 
and Fred was yet far from his destination, but 


88 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


he felt no weariness now. His joy and relief 
were too keen to admit of painful sensations. 
After going some distance he stopped for a few 
minutes, but not to rest. 

Kneeling down in the silent forest he returned 
thanks for the invisible guidance which had 
been granted, and renewed the promise which 
he had made, sincerely indeed, but unconscious 
of his weakness and inability to keep it in his 
own strength. It was now renewed with confes- 
sions of his nothingness, and of his sinfulness and 
vileness before God, and with a prayer for for- 
giveness and for that strength that is made per- 
fect in weakness. 

Does it seem an incongruous thing that this 
man, late an outlaw against both God and man, 
should be thus humble and repentant ? 

Let us not forget that there are no limits to the 
power of God. Peter’s heart, even in the midst 
of his profanity and disloyalty to his Master, was 
touched and softened into tears and repentance by 
a look. The thief on the cross lifted for for- 
giveness and love the voice which but a little 
while before had joined with those of the reviling 
rabble, in casting reproach and insult into the 
teeth of Jesus. Saul, the persecutor of Christ’s 
followers, the proud Pharisee who had kept the 
whole law and was zealous above all others in 
exterminating the despised Nazarenes, was ar- 


JOY AMONG THE ANGELS, 89 

rested in his downward course in a moment, and 
made to ask in meek submission, Lord, what 
wilt thou have me to do ? ” Is anything too 
hard for the Lord ? And why should any who 
feel that they are sinners, who are conscious of 
their weakness and miserable condition, hesitate 
and wait for preparation to come to him? 

‘^All the fitness he requireth is to feel your 
need of him.” 

Dan Eakins was the first to be made glad by 
the good tidings of the prospective recovery of 
the baby. He wanted to load all the guns in 
the camp, and fire them in token of rejoicing; 
but Fred protested. 

It might alarm the squaw, if she should hear 
it,” he said. “ Wait until we have the baby safe 
in camp, and then you may fire as many salvos 
as your ammunition will allow.” 

He lost no time in securing the bag of coin 
and a blanket, together with a bottle of milk 
which Dan had kept in readiness, and sallied 
forth. 

What was it to him that his way lay through 
a trackless forest, and that he could only guide 
his course by the stars ! He felt no fears and no 
weariness ; but the nearer and nearer he came 
to the spot where he knew Grant was keeping 
watch, the keener grew his eagerness and impa- 
tience to be there. 

8 * 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


Had the squaw returned, and had she really 
brought the child! he asked himself over and 
over, as though he could get an answer to his 
question. At last he saw the fire-light, and he 
knew that he was almost there. A little later he 
startled Grant by rushing lipon him with the 
question : 

“ Hasn’t she come yet ? ” 

She had not yet come ; and the waiting time 
must be endured for a while longer. They re- 
plenished the fire, and prepared to spend the 
night in that wild spot. Neither slept much, 
although they watched and lay down by turns. 

The slow hours passed and brought no sight 
or sound of the expected visitor. Had she 
played them false, and only bargained with them 
in order to give herself an opportunity to escape ? 

Fred thought of the cunning and treachery of 
the race, of which much has been said. He 
thought also, even at this moment, with shame, 
that his own race had no room for favorable 
comparison. 

Grant did not partake of the apprehensions 
which disturbed his .friend. 

“ She will be sure to come,” he said ; “ I saw 
it in her eye when I told her she should have 
both hands full.” 

Fred tried to believe that his companion was 
right and to take courage accordingly. 


JOY AMONG THE ANGELS. 91 

And Grant was right. In the early light of 
morning the squaw suddenly made her appear- 
ance, standing near a tree not far from the fire ; 
but no child was to be seen. 

“ Where is the baby — where is the pappoose ? 
asked Fred breathlessly. 

“Where is the money? she answered, hold- 
ing out her hands in the form of a scoop as 
Grant had done. 

“ It is here,” answered that individual, pro- 
ducing the bag and jingling the pieces. 

The woman gave another grunt of satisfaction, 
and unfastening a strap, swung a basket from 
behind her back, and there was the baby sure 
enough, but wrapped in an old tattered blanket, 
in place of the bright new overcoat in which he 
had been stolen. 

“ Bring the child’s coat to the camp, and you 
shall have the blanket I promised you,” ex- 
claimed Grant, tossing back to her the dirty 
wrap, and folding round the baby the one which 
he had intended for her. 

“ Oh, let her have the blanket,” spoke Fred, 
too glad to see the child again to care for minor 
matters. “ We can wrap the boy in my over- 
coat now, and she will bring his back to him 
another time.” 

“ Not while the world stands,” answered Grant 
grimly, as he yielded up the blanket. But he 


92 STRUGGLING UPWARD. 

was mistaken ; the little coat was returned not 
many days after. 

When the transfers had been duly made, the 
woman began to examine the contents of the bag. 

“ There is some copper in the pile, as you will 
find,” said Grant, “ but there’s considerable 
silver, far more than you deserve ; and now if 
you can manage to steal this pappoose again, 
you may have him.” 

“ Burning Star steal him ? Me steal him ? ” 
asked the squaw. 

“ Yes, you, and nobody else,” answered Grant 
unyieldingly. 

“ Ugh ! White man like fire-water better than 
Indian ! ” was the answer, a pungent thrust at the 
white man’s weakness and misdoing, as well as 
a virtual acknowledgment of her own. The 
blow was felt. That they should have lain in a 
state of drunken insensibility while this woman 
had robbed their camp unhindered, was a thought 
that brought a flush of shame to the faces of 
these two men in the presence of this degraded, 
untaught child of the forest. 

“ Steal him again if you can!” repeated Grant 
defiantly. 

The little fellow was cuddling his small, dirty, 
cold face against Fred’s neck, and if there were 
tears in the strong man's eyes, he had no cause 
to be ashamed of them. 


JOY AMONG THE ANGELS. 93 

The successful party duly arrived in camp. 
The baby was joyfully welcomed and washed by 
Dan, and then he proceeded to fire the guns, 
partly in honor of the return and restoration, 
and partly as a signal to those who were still on 
the search. No signals had been agreed on, 
but those who heard the repeated discharges 
rightly construed the sounds to mean good 
tidings. 

In the course of time they began to come in 
by two and two, and the cheers that followed 
each new arrival gave fresh courage to those 
within hearing. 

It was many hours before the tired men retired 
to take the rest which they so much needed; 
but they did retire at last. The baby was safe 
in his crib, and all could sleep in peace. But 
ah ! there were some to whom sleep refused to 
come. There were sad, tumultuous thoughts 
that would not be silenced. There were memo- 
ries that no effort could sweep out of range of 
the mental vision. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


THE NAMELESS ORAVE. 


** But now is Christ risen from the dead, and become the 
first fruits of them that slept.” 



HERE was a spot not far from the camp 


-L which the miners were wont to speak of 
as ‘‘ the little grave.” Fred one day asked an 
explanation of the name, and was told that al- 
though the place was always called by that name, 
no one of the men now in camp knew anything 
about its origin unless it was Grant Lucas, who 
always showed a strange unwillingness to talk 
about it. 

“ Grant has been known to spend half a day 
clearing the broken branches and dead leaves 
away from the spot when we were here before,” 
said Fred’s informant, and yet when some of 
the boys asked him whose grave was there, he' 
always answered that he could not tell. There 
is nothing that looks like a grave ; but there is 
a rock with a date cut in it, and we fellows have 
always understood that somebody was buried 


( 94 ) 


THE NAMELESS GRAVE. 


95 


there. Grant knows all about it, and if he will 
tell any one, he will tell you.” 

Fred, however, did not feel at liberty to ques- 
tion his friend on the subject, since learning of 
his reticence. He went to the spot not long 
after, and was surprised to find the inscription 
of such recent date. There was no name, nor 
anything to indicate who was resting there. 
Perhaps the name of the sleeper was known only 
to God. 

The evening wind passed through the leaves 
above with a soft whispering sound, and the 
slanting sunbeams falling through the mountain 
gap, lighted up the place, seeming to the mind 
of Fred an unspoken promise that the nameless 
one was not forgotten before him who, far away 
in the land of Moab, laid away one to rest until 
the resurrection ; and no man knoweth of his 
sepulchre unto this day.” 

The thought was comforting to the visitor at 
this lonely grave, in view of the probably un- 
marked tombs of his own kindred — the thought 
that God knew the place if man did not. 

His musings were interrupted by the sound 
of footsteps behind him, and he looked around 
to see Grant Lucas approaching. Fred felt a 
little doubtful as to what Grant’s feelings might 
be on finding another thus sitting near the spot 
which he only had seemed to hold sacred. He 


96 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


was looking very grave, and remembering what 
had been told him of his friend’s reserve on the 
subject, Fred began to cast about in his mind 
for some irrelevant remark. 

He had not pursued his inquiries, and it was 
ijo idle curiosity which had brought him to the 
grave; yet he felt an embarrassment at being 
found there. At last he said something about 
the beauty of the sunset view from the place. 

But Grant did not appear to have heard him. 
He sat down near his friend and looked off 
through the Gap flooded with the sun’s last rays, 
apparently lost in his own thoughts. At last 
he spoke : 

“ Fred, I heard you asking Lawrence about 
this grave some time ago; and I heard him 
tell you that if there was any one to whom I 
would talk on the subject you were the man. 
He was right on that point. You have respected 
my reserve and have asked no questions, and 
I am going to tell you.” 

“ Don’t tell me if it hurts you to talk about it, 
old fellow,” said Fred, pressing his hand. 

It hurts me not to talk about it,” answered 
Grant, ‘‘and you are the one person to whom L 
feel like talking. In the first place, there is a 
grave under that stone. I made it myself, and 
buried there a little child who, had he lived, 
would not have been unlike the little fellow 


THE NAMELESS GRAVE. 


97 


over yonder in camp — the same blue eyes and 
yellow hair. Time might have made changes in 
the appearance of the two, but at three months 
old (for they were nearly of one age) they were 
so much alike that it was easy to mistake one 
for the other.” The speaker sat looking away 
into the now darkening Gap, and was silent for 
some time. 

His mother named him Henry,” he went on, 
as if to himself, “ for her father and grandfather, 
and called him Harry. Then Mrs. Gills gave 
her boy the same name, for she said, since they 
were as much alike as two peas, it would never 
do to call them by different names. 

“ The two mothers were like sisters in their 
attachment for each other, and were not often 
apart very long at a time, especially if either was 
ailing, and so it came about that they were 
together on that terrible night of June 15, 18 — . 

Mrs. Gills and her child were both sick, and 
Gills was absent from home, so my wife and I 
shut up our cabin and went to Gills’. Toward 
evening on the day of the raid, Mrs. Gills’ baby 
was seized with spasms, and I went over to The 
Forks to call a doctor. It was during my ab- 
sence that the wretches appeared and carried off 
my treasures. I never could understand how 
they came to spare Mrs. Gills and her baby. 

She could remember nothing of the occurrence ; 

9 Gt 


98 STRUGGLING UPWARD, 

it was all a blank which she was never able to 
fill. 

** When I returned with the doctor she was 
lying white and weak, but unharmed, with her 
child clasped to her breast. She was ill for a 
long time afterwards, but both mother and child, 
as you know, recovered. 

‘‘ There were no soldiers near at the time, but 
the men from far and wide, with guns, followed 
the trail for some distance. It was on the return, 
after days of fruitless effort, that, wandering apart 
from the rest, I found the baby lying among the 
leaves just there,” pointing to the spot. “ There 
was no blood on its bright hair, and no signs of 
bruises. I have always believed that the heart- 
less savages compelled my wife to leave it to die 
of hunger and exposure. 

“ It came to my ears not long after that a 
couple of hunters had found a woman’s body 
horribly mutilated and past recognition, and had 
buried it as decently as circumstances would 
allow. And so the last, horrible act of the 
tragedy was over, and I went into the barracks 

of Fort , and killed the red skins until I 

was sick of the sight of blood, and felt willing to 
die in my turn. 

“ But that was not yet to be. I fell ill and 
was taken to a hospital, and afterwards dis- 
charged. You have noticed perhaps that I have 


THE NAMELESS GRAVE, 99 

never taken to the baby as some of the others 
have done. I can’t help it — the feeling that 
comes over me. It is not that I grudge the 
little fellow his life, but the sig}it of him brings 
back to my mind that awful night, and the ques- 
tion comes to me over and over. Why was this 
child spared to survive both his parents, and the 
little sleeper here taken away, leaving me with- 
out a tie to earth ? Or why were Gills and his 
wife swept out of life when they would have 
been glad to live for their child’s sake and that 
of each other, while I — ” 

The narrator’s voice had not wavered during 
the whole recital, and Fred could not help feel- 
ing that he had nerved himself well for the ordeal 
of telling his story; but here he broke down and 
wept like a woman. 

Fred pressed his hand in silence. Grant’s 
voice was the first to break the stillness. 

“ I am not so hard and bitter as I was once,” 
he said, “ and I think it must be the presence 
of the child after all. I turned my back in stiff- 
necked rebellion on my dead wife’s Bible when 
Mrs. Gills offered it to me ; but now I would 
give much for a sight of the book she loved so 
dearly, though I might not prize it in the way 
she did.” 

He paused and then went on sadly : “ I have 
nothing to cling to that binds me surely to my 


100 STRUGGLING UPWARD, 

lost ones. I am not even sure that this is my 
child’s grave, for of course the face was changed 
in the time that had elapsed. I believe that it 
is ; but one thing I know, my wife and child are 
dead, or have found a fate that is worse than 
death.” 

The moonlight was now flooding with silver 
light the spot where the golden glow had lately 
faded. Fred racked his memory for something 
comforting to say to this bereaved one. 

At last the mourner spoke again : “ I believe 
there are some of us set apart as vessels of wrath, 
fitted for destruction,” he said, gloomily. “ I 
believe I miglit have been a Christian if my wife 
and child had been spared to me. I believe in 
Christianity; I know it is true, but I cannot make 
it a personal thing. I suppose it was not to be!” 

Then Fred found his voice : 

“ Don’t give way to such thoughts. Grant I ” 
he exclaimed, earnestly. “There is a psalm 
which I have heard my mother read until I know 
it by heart, that says, ‘ The Lord is good to all, 
and his tender mercies are over all his works.* 
Those who are made vessels of wrath are the 
ones who have turned away from the offers of 
mercy. You believe in the great hereafter; don’t 
lose the happiness you may yet secure ! Don’t 
miss the hope of meeting with your dear ones 
yonder ! ’* 


THE NAMELESS GRAVE, 


101 


Grant made a little impatient movement. 

“ I want them here,” he said ; ‘‘ and I will be- 
lieve in heaven’s mercy toward me when my 
dead come back to my arms.” 

The two men went back slowly and thought- 
fully to the camp, leaving the little tomb in the 
white moonbeams that lay like a blessing over 
the spot. No chiseled marble reared its pure 
form over the little one’s remains, but the giant 
forest trees stretched their great boughs above 
it like protecting arms ; and the sun’s last rays 
were wont to rest there, as if in assurance that 
the lonely little grave was not forgotten. It is 
true that in winter the wind swept sharply 
through the leafless trees, and the snow lay deep 
and cold above ; but, 

** What does it matter since God doth know, 

Under the flowers, or under the snow ? ” 

And, oh! what a fountain of consolation was 
that from which this stricken one was thus 
bitterly turning I 

It is when the wounded heart is made to feel 
the absence that in this world knows no return- 
ing, the silence that is always unbroken, that we 
are brought to believe the words which our risen 
Lord has spoken, and are brought to know the 
blessedness of the truth of an immortal state, the 
grand, comforting doctrine of the resurrection 
9 ^^ 


102 


STRUGGLING UPWARD, 


of the dead, and made to see the light beyond 
the river, illuminating the mountains of peace 
and the valleys of blessing, and are ready to go 
over and meet our Redeemer and his and our 
loved ones, that we can say joyfully with the 
great apostle : ** O grave, where is thy victory ? 
O death, where is thy sting ? . . Thanks be 
unto God, which giveth us the victory through 
our Lord Jesus Christ.” 




CHAPTER IX. 


LED BY A LITTLE CHILD. 


** Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them 
not; for of such is the kingdom of God. Whosoever shall 
offend one of these little ones that believe in me, it is better for 
him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and he were 
cast into the sea.” 



ORE than a year had passed over the gold 


1 VX seekers of Thunder Gap since the events 
recorded in the last chapter. Time had brought 
its changes to them as well as to others in the 
region. Rich veins of the precious metal had 
been discovered in various localities. A railroad 
had placed the hitherto isolated and straggling 
population in closer communication with the 
outside world. 

The Forks,” with its one store and two or 
three dwelling houses, had formed the nucleus 
for such a town as not infrequently springs up 
in the course of a few months in our western 
country, and now bore the more pretentious ap- 
pellation of Goldburgh. It boasted a church, a 
town hall, a school-house and several hotels and 


( 103 ) 


104 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


stores, together with other buildings which were 
used as traps for the feet of the unwary. 

Life appeared to be flowing on in the old 
channel with “ Grant Lucas and his men,” as 
the miners were generally styled ; and yet some 
changes had taken place among them also. 
Several comfortable cabins had been built for 
their accommodation. Some progress, too, had 
been made which was less perceptible to the 
on-looker. One thing may be mentioned — there 
had been no repetition of the disgraceful orgie 
which took place on the night on which the 
baby had been stolen from their midst. 

Some of the men still indulged in the “ poi- 
son,” and went to the town for a night of dissi- 
pation occasionally, returning hilarious or quar- 
relsome according to the effect produced, but 
the challenge given to the Indian kidnapper, 
had proved one which she had not been able to 
accept, if she had possessed the inclination to do 
so. 

Fred had made no further mention of taking 
the child away. Perhaps the universal devotion 
displayed at the time of its abduction, had made 
him feel that such a move would be unjust. 
Besides, he had, unknown to the others, written 
and rewritten to the address of the friends whom 
he had left far toward the rising sun, and had 


LED BY A LITTLE CHILD. 


105 


received no response. Failing to hear directly, 
he had written to different persons whom he had 
known in his old home, and after long waiting 
there came back the tidings from one, coldly in- 
different, as it seemed to him : 

** I believe your folks are all dead. The old 
people are, I know, and I can learn nothing of 
your brother and sister, though I have taken 
some trouble to make inquiries.” 

That was all. There was no hope of again meet- 
ing with his kindred in this world, and there were 
no messages from those who had passed away. 
Was it strange that he grew silent and sad ? He 
had wasted time and opportunities. He had 
chosen a course which had led him far from his 
home and loved ones, and now the thought of 
his mother and her prayers for him was bur- 
dened with remorse. 

Fred had seemed to his companions a wonder- 
fully changed man since the loss and restoration 
of the baby. Profanity was banished from his 
conversation, and the sabbath observed as sa- 
credly as was possible under the circumstances ; 
and in spite of the solicitations of some, not a 
drop of strong drink had passed his lips since 
that disgraceful revel. 

Most of the men respected the change though 
they did not understand the cause ; and as he 
was a cheerful and agreeable companion, and al- 


106 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


ways ready to oblige, he was a general favorite 
next to the baby. 

But now he was silent and melancholy, seldom 
speaking unless spoken to, and often rousing up 
with a start when addressed, as if his thoughts 
were far away. 

Little Harry, though still known in the camp 
as “ the baby,” could now talk quite plainly, and 
Fred had taught him to repeat, night and morn- 
ing, the prayers which he himself had learned at 
his mother’s knee. Np one knew of this, except 
Grant Lucas, who always, when present, re- 
mained respectfully silent while the baby voice 
repeated “Our Father,” or the short evening 
prayer of thanks for the blessings of the day and 
a petition for protection for himself and his 
friends through the silent hours of the night. 

The sight of the little kneeling form and the 
sound of the childish accents, indeed, touched 
the stern-looking man who listened, more than 
he himself knew, and thus kept alive thoughts 
and memories which he had often tried to stifle. 

One Saturday night, Jeff Symmes came back 
from town under the influence of liquor, and a 
little disposed to be quarrelsome. 

Where is the baby?” he demanded in a 
boisterous tone, looking about for the child: 
“ IVe got some apples for him.” 

One of the men around the camp-fire spoke. 


LED BY A LITTLE CHILD. 


107 


** Better put them away till morning,” he sug- 
gested, “ Fred has just taken the boy to bed.” 

“ Nonsense ! It’s not eight o’clock yet ! ” ex- 
claimed Jeff, with an oath. 

“ He tries to keep the child all to himself, and 
mopes around like a sick owl ! ” and he started 
for the cabin ; but Grant, hearing his approach, 
had fastened the door. 

He came back to the others, furiously angry, 
and reported, a prayer meeting or something of 
the kind going on over there,” with a contempt- 
uous toss of his head toward the cabin. 

Some of the men laughed uproariously at the 
idea, though they would have been puzzled to 
tell why they did so. 

“ That reminds me,” said one, when the noise 
had subsided, “ there’s to be a great speaking 
time over at the Burgh to-morrow. Some big 
preacher is to hold forth at the church in the 
morning, and in the afternoon a great gun of an 
infidel lecturer will follow at the town hall. I 
say, boys, let’s all go over.” 

The proposition was generally agreed to. 

It will be a good chance to hear both sides,” 
remarked one. 

^‘And to bet on the chap that wins,” coarsely 
suggested another. 

“ Good as a horse-race or a prize fight ! ” 
mumbled Jeff Symmes thickly. 


108 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


Grant and Fred now made their appearance 
in the group. 

Been holding family prayers ? ” asked Jeff, 
sneeringly. 

Fred flushed hotly. He was unusually sensi- 
tive to ridicule, even from his boyhood. Grant, 
however, was cool enough. 

** Don’t talk, Jeff, till you get sober and know 
what you are talking about,” he answered 
quietly. 

“ I’m not drunk, and I’ll whip any man who 
says so!” retorted Jeff, interlarding his speech 
with profanity. He staggered to his feet and 
made a dash at Grant, who caught his arm, and 
seizing him by the collar conveyed him unas- 
sisted to a shanty near by, and pushing him in, 
fastened the door from the outside. 

Sunday morning dawned bright and beautiful, 
and a hallowed quiet seemed to reign over all 
things. Nothing was heard except the morning 
songs of the wild birds. The men were not yet 
stirring. Dan had just kindled the camp-fire, 
and the smoke curled la:zily up among the trees. 
But little Harry was wide awake and doing his 
best to rouse up the other occupants of the 
cabin. 

** It’s morning, it’s morning ! ” he called out in 
his clear, childish voice, “ Wake up, F’ed, and 


LED BY A LITTLE CHILD, 


109 


have breakfast. F’ed and baby going to town 
to-day,” he concluded, remembering the promise 
of the previous evening. 

But Fred was sleepy and did not move. 
Climbing on the rude bed, the child proceeded 
to pull open the heavy eyelids with his little 
fingers. 

Finding that there was no more sleep for him, 
Fred sprang up hastily, and the baby shouted 
with laughter. Having made his own and the 
child’s toilet, Fred went out, saying : 

‘‘You stay here with Grant. I’ll bring you 
your breakfast by and by.” 

“ Baby wants to go. Baby wants to see the 
boys,” answered the child. 

It had long been apparent to Fred that the 
society of most of his companions was not good 
for the little child, who was very intelligent and 
quick to learn and repeat whatever he heard. 
But petted and pampered, treated to candy by 
one and then tossed over to another for nuts or 
apples, and given a ride on the shoulder by a 
third, the company of “ the boys ” held strong 
attractions for him, and now, when he found 
that Fred had really left him behind, he began 
to cry lustily. 

Fred went to the fire and began to prepare 
something for the child to eat. A few minutes 
later, Jeff Symmes made his appearance. He 
10 


110 


STRUGGLING UPWARD, 


was sober now, but his head ached, and he felt 
in no amiable humor. 

“ What have you been doing to that baby ? I 
heard him crying as I passed your quarters,” 
he said menacingly. 

“ Oh, he doesn’t like it because I made him 
stay with Grant, that is all,” answered Fred, in- 
tent upon what he wks doing. 

“Yes!” was retorted, “you try to keep the 
child from coming near any of the rest of us 
fellows, you and Grant Lucas. You’re getting 
some high and mighty notions of late.” 

Fred was stooping over the fire and did not 
answer for a moment ; then he rose up from the 
muffins he had been turning, his face flushed with 
the heat of the fire, and the knife still in his hand. 

“ See here, Jeff,” he said, “ Grant has nothing 
at all to do with it. As for myself. I’ll be 
honest with you. I don’t like to hurt your feel- 
ings after your kindness both to the baby and 
me, but my first duty is to God and the child,” 
he continued reverently, with sudden courage 
which was a surprise to himself. 

“ It does trouble me to have the little fellow 
hear some of the language which you boys use. 
He is beginning to catch up nearly everything 
he hears, and I tell you, Jeff, if he should learn 
to swear, I should almost expect his mother to 
rise out of her grave and reproach me.” 


LED BY A LITTLE CHILD. 


Ill 


Jeff was a little touched by his companion’s 
frankness and evident feeling, but the remem- 
brance of his late humiliation, coupled with the 
unreasoning dislike which he had conceived for 
Fred, overcame all better feelings. 

“ Humph ! ” he exclaimed, contemptuously. 
“ Well, since you are so solemn and sanctimoni- 
ous, you’d better not lie for Grant Lucas. The 
fellow has been nagging at us boys almost ever 
since the child began to talk about our language. 
Some of them have given in to him, but I’d 
like to know,” he continued, growing more and 
more furious, as his companion showed no signs 
of anger, if we are all to be compelled to chew 
our words and talk nothing but pious cant be- 
cause a stray urchin happens to be among us. 
You’d better go back to the thieving gang you 
came from, and take the young one along with 
you ! ” 

Grant had pacified the baby by giving him 
his watch to play with, and appeared on the 
scene just at this juncture, and before Fred had 
time to reply. 

Still drunk and quarrelsome ! ” he said, 
severely. “Jeff Symmes, if you don’t mend 
your ways, it is you who will be set adrift. Now 
let us have no more of this kind of talk. Do 
you hear? ” 

Jeff in a low tone, muttered something that 


112 STRUGGLING UPWARD. 

had an oath at the end of it, and gave an evil 
glance at Fred; but he said no more, and no 
further notice was taken of him. 

Wonderfully diverse in respect to outward 
appearance were the people who wended their 
way to Goldburgh church and took their seats 
upon that bright Sabbath morning. There were 
miners and prospectors of all grades. There 
were keen-looking, well-dressed business men, 
and elegantly attired women. Again, there were 
men in faultlessly fitting, fashionable clothes, 
with heavy gold chains and rings and diamond 
shirt studs, and faces that would not bear close 
scrutiny in the open light of day. 

There, in a front pew, was the florid-faced, 
portly proprietor of the Grand Hotel, and by his 
side his equally portly wife, resplendent in silks 
and jewelry, and at no great distance a former 
member of the Rocky Rangers, the late terror 
of the region, with a pure-faced little child in his 
arms. 

Those who had come to hear the great 
preacher, expecting to have their fancies pleased 
with the dash and air of' challenge betokening 
the theological athlete, were disappointed. 

The minister was rather below than above 
medium height, and his pale, clear-cut face was 
such an one as the ignorant and idly curious 


LED BY A LITTLE CHILD. II3 

would not readily read. There was no thunder 
in the prayer with which he opened the services ; 
and when he announced his text there was a 
sudden vanishing of the last remnant of hope on 
the part of those who had come to the house 
of God to witness the victory or defeat of man. 

Clearly, so as to be heard by every one in the 
remotest corners of the house, and yet with a 
subdued cadence, came the words of holy writ: 
“ Behold, I stand at the door and knock : if any 
man hear my voice, and open the door, I will 
come in to him, and will sup with him, and he 
with me.” 

The speaker’s language and style of delivery 
were marked with the dignity which becomes 
the ambassador of heaven ; but the plainness 
and earnestness with which he presented the 
truth seemed to place him in direct communi- 
cation with the lowliest and humblest of his 
hearers. 

He laid before them the gospel invitation in 
its freeness and fullness as illustrated by, the 
Master when on earth. He told the stoiy of 
his meek, unselfish life of holiness and purity, 
and it sounded new to those who had been 
familiar with it from their childhood. He por- 
trayed the character which bore no taint of sin, 
yet never held itself aloof from sinners. He 
drew the striking contrast between the self- 

10^^ H 


114 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


righteous Jews who regarded the touch of poor, 
sinful humanity as defilement, and spent their 
time in washings and other ceremonials of puri- 
fication, their hearts meanwhile impure in the 
sight of God, and the pure, spotless One who 
freely mingled with the multitude, and made it 
the opportunity of doing them good. 

He told them how the Master avowed plainly 
that he came not to call the righteous but sin- 
ners to repentance; how the common people 
heard him gladly, and the hypocritical Pharisees 
hated while they feared him. 

There was fixed attention while the speaker 
dwelt with tender truthfulness upon the Saviour’s 
attitude toward fallen man. He represented the 
gracious kindness of a king who should fi-eely 
offer terms of pardon and peace to all his rebel- 
lious subjects that should come to him and kneel 
for forgiveness at his palace gate. But this 
Lord of lords and King of kings humbles him- 
self to go to the lowly hovel of the sinner and 
knock for admittance that he may confer his 
gracious favors. 

He explained, so that a child might under- 
stand, the significance of the beautiful imagery. 
He told his hearers that whenever they were 
moved to turn away from the evil and seek the 
good, Christ was knocking for admittance. 
Whenever they felt aspirations for a purer. 


LED BY A LITTLE CHILD, 


116 


higher life; whenever a sense of the danger and 
defilement of sin oppressed them ; whenever the 
offer of salvation was presented to them, they 
might know that Jesus was standing at the 
door of their hearts. He urged them to admit 
the gracious visitor, and receive the blessing 
promised. 

There were those in this motley congregation 
who heard the truth and received it. Man might 
not see a quick result, but the seed sown would, 
in the Master’s time, germinate and bring forth 
fruit. There were also present the hearers 
whose impressions, if they received any, were as 
the morning cloud and the early dew. 

“ Pray tell me, who is that tall young man 
over there with the little child in his arms ? ” 

It was Mrs. Pope who started the question, 
and it passed from one to another till it reached 
the ears of Jeff Symmes, nursing his malignant 
feelings even in the house of God. His next 
neighbor was a young man who, with no visible 
means of support, spent money lavishly and 
boarded at the Grand Hotel. 

“ That,” whispered Jeff, “ is Tall Ted of the 
Rocky Rangers.” 

The answer was passed from mouth to mouth, 
and Fred, thoughtfully setting out to return to 
camp with his charge, little knew how many 
eyes were following his movements. 


116 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


With those present, who were like the Athen- 
ians, this “ new thing ” furnished a subject for a 
considerable amount of hearing and telling. 

It is true the band is broken up, but he 
ought to be arrested and punished for what he 
has done,” said some. 

“That child is doubtless one he has stolen 
and is holding for an immense ransom.” 

“ It seems to be fond of him.” 

“ It knows no better, poor innocent ! It should 
be taken from him at once and placed in the 
care of some proper person.” 

The last remark was made by Mrs. Pope, 
who had been struck with the child’s face and 
regarded herself as eminently the “ proper per- 
son ” referred to. 

“There is no time to be lost, I assure you,” 
she concluded, turning her keen, black eyes in a 
commanding way upon the man to whom Jeff 
had confided the hateful secret. 


CHAPTER X. 


"WHAT IS TRUTH?" 

" Now Tobiah the Ammonite was by him, and he said, Even 
that which they build, if a fox go up, he shall even break down 
their stone wall.'* 

I F the Christian minister had addressed an 
audience of respectable size, the infidel orator 
was listened to by a crowd. The hall was filled 
to its utmost seating capacity, and many were 
standing in the aisles. 

There was an air of interest permeating the 
throng assembled, and when the speaker was 
introduced a hush of expectation followed, that 
was soon gratified. 

There were a few smooth, polite, introductory 
remarks, and then the orator launched into what 
many present thought to be a burst of unsur- 
passed and startling eloquence, embodying a vast 
amount of apparent logic. 

The lecturer held a Bible in his hand from 
which he read picked passages now and then, 
after which he proceeded to refute the statements, 

( 117 ) 


118 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


correct the mistakes/' as he expressed it, of 
the garbled extracts which he had made. 

The lecture was an alternation of satire and 
fierce and angry sounding denunciation, with an 
occasional sprinkling of what seemed, to the 
young and unsophisticated, candor and dispas- 
sionate argument. But “ the heavy artillery,” as 
one afterward styled it, appeared to be his fa- 
vorite mode of warfare. And if the believers in 
the religion of Jesus Christ had been his most 
cruel enemies, he could not have spoken of them 
with more of scathing dislike and scorn. 

He profaned the holy day by repeated at- 
tempts at witticism, calling forth peals of laughter 
from some of his audience, and evidently used 
all his efforts to bring into disrepute the cause 
which he was opposing, together with all its 
adherents. But like all of his class, he had 
nothing to offer instead of the belief which he 
sought to demolish. 

These persons talk with high sounding phrases 
of a pure morality; but the purest morality 
which the world has ever known has gone hand 
in hand with religion, and the unfairness which 
marks their attacks proves them to be strangers 
to that of which they speak. Morality is honest 
and truthful. 

The very existence of these scoffers has been 
foretold, and also the terrible destiny of such as 


*‘IVJIAT /S TRUTH? 


119 


shall continue unbelieving until convinced too 
late to receive the salvation which they have 
scorned; when it shall be said unto them: 
“ Behold, ye despisers, and wonder and perish ! 

But there is an experimental knowledge of 
the truth of religion that is a surer foundation 
for belief than the words of others, however 
true and well founded. 

When the man born blind had received his 
sight, he needed not that any should tell him 
of the sense which had just been given him. 
He could say : “ One thing I know ; that whereas 
I was blind, now I see.” And Jesus, the great 
healer, has said : If any man will do his will, 
he shall know of the doctrine whether it be of 
God;” and again, “Ye shall know the truth, 
and the truth shall make you free.” Ah, my 
friends ! he who can say, “ I know that my 
Redeemer liveth,” need not fear any thrusts from 
the caviler at his belief, and is wiser than the 
wisest of worldly sages. 

It is the duty of the Christian teacher to an- 
swer all honest doubts which may arise in the 
minds of those who come under his teaching. 
Such doubts are often suggested directly to the 
mind by the arch enemy of souls, and also by 
his servants. 

But there is a vast difference between doubts 
which trouble the minds of sincere seekers after 


120 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


the truth, and the gross misstatements of actual 
facts frequently made by those who assault 
Christianity. There is both deplorable ignor- 
ance and willful falsehood at the bottom of 
much of the invective against religion; and 
much of it remains unanswered, not because it 
is unanswerable, but because it is too puerile 
and empty to deserve notice. 

Were it not for the fact that these blind lead 
others who are blind also, it were useless to 
waste words upon their puny efforts to batter 
down the walls of salvation. 

When you hear or read the defenses of Chris- 
tianity, remember that these are only made for 
the benefit of those who have been, or may be, 
misled by the lies of false teachers. 

It is stated by Rev. C. T. Whitmore in the 
London World that “ Of twenty infidel lecturers 
and writers who have been prominent in the last 
thirty years, sixteen have abandoned their infi- 
delity and openly professed their faith in Chris- 
tianity.” 

Most of the crowd assembled at the town hall 
of Goldburgh left the place of meeting well 
satisfied with themselves, as well as with the 
speaker and his lecture. 

There were attempted reproductions of his 
witticisms and caricatures, and renewed laughter 
at the remembrance of them. 


IVJIAT IS TRUTH r' 


121 


There were some whose consciences, not yet 
dead, were quieted by what they had heard ; and 
more who, having listened and laughed, would 
soon forget the speaker and his words in the 
next diversion that offered itself. 

But there were others who were troubled and 
perplexed by the statements, or rather misstate- 
ments, to which they had listened ; and others 
still, who, knowing the truth, were confirmed by 
the unfairness of the arguments, and the flimsi- 
ness of the falsehoods of the boasted “ champion 
of the truth.’' 

The lecture was duly commented upon in the 
camp at Thunder Gap. 

Jeff Symmes pronounced it ‘*the most sen- 
sible thing that had ever been heard in Gold- 
burgh ; ” and said, that man was smart and 
knew what he was talking about.” 

“ Well,” answered Grant Lucas, “ he is natu- 
rally smart enough, I suppose, but take my word 
for it the ground he stands on doesn’t feel as 
steady under his feet as he would like others to 
believe. If religion is all folly and imagination, 
what is the use of wasting so much breath in 
fighting against it ? What is the use of so much 
fire and noise? Whoever heard of anybody 
getting out a twenty -pounder and firing it, loaded 
to the muzzle, at a shadow ? Pshaw ! the man 
11 


122 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


refutes his own arguments. And if the believing 
of a fanciful story can make men live better lives 
and die in peace, what is the use of undeceiving 
them, when you have nothing to offer them in 
its place ? If the ‘ poor dupes,’ as he calls them, 
are happy in their delusion, what is the good of 
enlightening them, just to have them know that 
there is no future for them ? ” 

‘‘ Oh, I suppose,” answered Jeff, “ that he hates 
to see people making fools of themselves, pities 
them for their folly.” 

“ Stuff and nonsense ! ” exclaimed the other. 
“ There was little of the ring of pity in anything 
I heard from him. That was one of his weakest 
points. What is the reason of his feeling so 
spiteful and malicious toward the believers in 
‘ this fable,’ as he styled it ? Why does he take 
such a Satanic satisfaction in thrusting at Chris- 
tians and the church everywhere ? He wants to 
believe that he is right ; he wants other people to 
believe it too, but he is far from feeling certain 
about it, and he is conscious that others are 
happier in their views. Nobody who is very 
acute will be convinced by his fine speeches.” 

“ He had a bigger crowd than the preacher,” 
remarked one. ‘ 

Oh, yes,” was answered. '' He’ll get the 
crowd every time, and plenty of cheering and 
all that, for the biggest crowd is on Satan’s side. 


WHAT IS TRUTH? 


123 


and men who are on their way to perdition like 
to be told that the Bible is a lie, and that there 
is no punishment in store for them, whatever they 
may do. But most of them,” he went on mu- 
singly, “ are, like their leader, only trying to shut 
their eyes against the light.” 

To say that the companions of Grant Lucas 
were astonished at his words would but feebly 
express the sentiments with which they listened 
to these remarks from one whom they would 
never have suspected of being a contender for 
the truth. Grant went on : 

“ He said some very fine sounding things, and 
some that were very funny and made his hearers 
laugh ; but I don’t think that anything he said 
made anybody feel sorry for any wrong that he 
had ever done, or awakened in any one a resolve 
to do better hereafter. As for me he only re- 
minded me that the truth of the Bible has been 
too often proved, and too long believed, for such 
men as he to do it much harm. The only 
wonder is that sane men do not always live up 
to their convictions. Heigho,” he concluded, 
stretching out his arms with a yawn, “ Dan, 
aren’t we going to have any supper to-night ? ” 

Upon receiving this hint, Dan set about the 
culinary duties which fell to his lot, and Grant 
went to his cabin. He soon returned, however, 
and sat down again among the rest. 


124 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


“ Is Fred teaching the young one the cate- 
chism and the ten commandments ? ” asked Jeff 
Symmes sarcastically. 

“ I don’t think Fred and the baby have come 
back yet, after all,” remarked Grant, addressing 
no one in particular, and ignoring the ill-natured 
fling. “ I thought he came over directly after 
the sermon this morning.” 

“ I reckon he has fallen in with some of his 
old chums,” pursued Jeff, but no one paying any 
attention to his sneers, he finally relapsed into 
silence. 

The supper was prepared and eaten. Some 
special dainties, as they were considered in the 
camp, were set aside for the baby, but still the 
missing ones did not make their appearance. 

Some of the men began to suspect that Fred 
had taken the opportunity to remove the child 
as he had once planned to do ; but Grant Lucas 
did not share in the suspicion. Yet what could 
his absence mean ? On parting from Grant at 
the church door he had announced his intention 
of returning at once to the camp. It was then 
about noon ; now the sunlight was creeping up 
to the tops of the mountains and still he had not 
come. 

I wonder if that same squaw has not carried 
off both of the dears ? ” said Jeff, no longer able 


WHAT IS TRUTH? 


125 


to keep silent, on witnessing the concern of his 
comrades. 

“ You ill-conditioned rascal ! ” burst out Grant 
angrily; ‘^if I hadn’t had you under my eye^ 
nearly all day, I should suspect you of some 
foul play in this matter. You would be more 
comfortable yourself, and less of a nuisance to 
other people, if you would drink a little less of 
that bad whisky that you get over at Pope’s.” 

** Who says I get whisky at Pope’s ? ” de- 
manded Jeff. 

“ It doesn’t matter who says so, and it doesn’t 
matter where you get it, so long as you are 
drunk enough to be insufferably ill-natured 
nearly all the time,” was the answer. 

‘‘ I say the Popes are fine people,” persisted 
Jeff. “ Pope is a clever fellow, and Mrs. Pope is 
a great lady.” 

“ Gigantic ! ” laughed one of the men. ‘‘ I 
should say she would bring down the scales at 
about two hundred ! ” 

“Are they friends of yours ? ” asked Grant of 
Jeff 

“Well, yes, I took dinner there to-day by 
special invitation, and made the acquaintance of 
some tip-top people, Mr. Chickham among the 
number.” 

Two or three of the men laughed simultane- 
ously at mention of the name of Mr. Chickham. 

11 * 


126 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


‘‘ If you have made Chickham’s acquaintance, 
look out or you will be a plucked goose before 
you are many days older,” said one. 

“ What do you mean ? ” demanded Jeff, with 
an effort at dignity. 

“Only this,” answered John Norton, the 
speaker, “that Chickham is one of the most 
noted gamblers in all this part of the country, 
and the next time you take dinner and cham- 
pagne at Pope’s by express invitation, you will 
do well to leave any little valuables which you 
own, in safe-keeping.” 

“ I am not a fool, as you may find out,” am 
swered Jeff. There was a ring of spiteful tri- 
umph in his tone, and some of his hearers 
felt half disposed to resort to force in order 
to learn whether he knew anything of the 
cause of the absence of Fred and the child ; but 
the company finally dispersed, and silence fell 
over the camp, and the missing ones had not yet 
returned. 

Had the holy day brought anything of real 
good to any who slept to-night under the great 
trees, spreading their long arms above as if in 
benediction ? There were some among them 
that knew the truth, but were there any whom 
the sacred day’s rest and privileges had brought 
nearer to God ? There were some who avowed 
a belief in holy things, but did the incense of 


**WHAT IS TRUTH? 


127 


prayer or praise ascend from the hearts of any 
in that little company ? Alas, for those to whom 
it shall be said: “Ye knew your duty, but ye 
did it not ! 


CHAPTER XL 


<*MAN PROPOSES: GOD DISPOSES." 

IS not in man that walketh to direct his steps. . . . My 
times are in thy hand." 

D ay after day passed and no message or 
token came from the absent ones to the 
workers at Thunder Gap. Work went on as 
usual, and an unlooked-for increase in the yield 
of the vein they were trying, served to take the 
thoughts of many of the men from Fred and the 
baby. But when evening came, then it was that 
the pet and plaything of the camp was missed 
sorely. 

Dan Eakins had repeated to some of the 
others the words which had passed between 
Fred and Jeff Symmes on Sunday morning, and 
more than one suspected that he was to blame 
for the unexpected disappearance. Yet there 
was something that was puzzling in Jeff’s con- 
duct. He was frequently absent during the 
evenings, but generally returned sober and was 
unmistakably troubled at the loss of the child. 
( 128 ) 


'*MAN PROPOSES: GOD DISPOSES^ 129 

He ceased to speak of Fred, and as the time 
went by, and they became accustomed to the 
change, some of the others ceased to do so like- 
wise. Grant Lucas, although he had said but 
little from the first, was determined to unravel 
the mystery, if such a thing were possible. At 
the earliest opportunity he made a trip to town 
with this object in view. 

It was about sunset when he entered the place, 
and many of the people were out driving and 
walking ; but few of them were known to Grant 
and he gave them but a passing glance, or hur- 
ried by without looking at them. 

He had reached one of the most fashionable 
promenades of the town, and was making his 
way to the house of an acquaintance, when, in 
crossing the street, he was nearly run over by a 
carriage that came dashing round the corner. 
The driver drew the handsome span of black 
horses back upon their haunches just in time 
to prevent his being trampled under their feet. 

“ Keep your eyes open, fellow, if you don’t 
want to be run over,” spoke a supercilious voice 
from the carriage. Haven’t you any more 
sense than to put yourself in front of such a 
team as that ? ” 

“ Haven’t you any more sense than to be 
driving at break-neck speed through a public 
thoroughfare ? ” retorted Grant. 

1 


130 


STRUGGLING UPWARD, 


He had recognized his interrogator as Chick- 
ham, the notorious gambler ; and Chickham had 
recognized him as one against whom he had a 
secret grudge of long standing. 

A woman’s laugh was heard as the two men 
remained eying each other angrily, Grant clutch- 
ing the bit of one of the horses and Chickham 
holding the lines helplessly. 

“ Well, well, nobody is hurt, I believe ; and if 
you, sir, will kindly let go my horses and step 
aside, we will finish our drive,” spoke Mrs. Pope’s 
smooth voice. 

Grant was about to release the horse he was 
holding, and which was pawing the ground im- 
patiently, when he heard his name called in a 
voice which was strangely familiar and had 
grown to exercise a power over him which he 
could not resist. 

It was a voice that always halted on his name, 
dropping out a letter, and to-night it had a half- 
frightened sound which went to the strong man’s 
heart. 

Sitting in Mrs. Pope’s lap, handsomely dressed, 
from the gold-corded blue velvet cap set jauntily 
over his yellow curls to the little bronze boots 
on his feet, but with tears in his eyes, was the 
baby ! 

“ Please pardon me if I detain you a moment 
longer,” Grant said, with great politeness, ad- 


PROPOSES: GOD DISPOSES^ 131 

dressing himself to Mrs. Pope. **Will you 
kindly tell me how you came in possession of 
that child ? ” 

Certainly,” she replied, pompously, and set- 
ting her head back a few inches further ; “ he 
was placed in my hands by the proper authori- 
ties. Good-evening, sir,” with a broad smile 
that sparkled tantalizingly in her black eyes, as 
Chickham gave the horses a stinging cut with 
his whip and they dashed away. 

There had been no time to ask any questions 
concerning Fred, but Grant would not have 
questioned these persons if there had been op- 
portunity. Looking after the carriage, he caught 
one glimpse of the little gold-corded cap, as the 
horses galloped down the street at the imminent 
risk of some other pedestrian who might chance 
to be crossing. 

“ How are you. Grant ? How are you. Grant ? ” 
came from several voices as he neared a certain 
eating and drinking house. 

Come in and stand treat to a glass of cold 
tea, all round,” called out one. 

“ You have kept yourself carefully aloof from 
all your friends lately,” spoke another. 

“ Thank you, boys,” answered Grant; “ I have 
been, and am still, very busy, and have lost one 
of my best men. Can any of you tell me any- 
thing about Fred ? ” 


182 


STRUGGLING UPWARD, 


Fred who ? ” questioned one. 

“ Honestly,” answered Grant, I can’t give 
you his other name. He was just known as 
Fred in camp, and a good fellow he was, too, as 
ever lived, in camp or out of it.” 

But Grant could get no information here. 
The disappearance of a miner was a matter of 
little moment to any but himself and his com- 
panions, and Grant turned to retrace his steps. 

“ Hold on ! ” called out one of his former 
rough associates; “don’t be in such a bother 
of a hurry. Your day’s work is done, I reckon, 
and you might, for the sake of old times, give 
us a lift to-night in a job we have on hand.” 

“ Hold your loud tongue, Clem Hyde ! ” ex- 
claimed another, warningly. “ You’ll tell all 
Goldburgh ! It’s to be a quiet job, and a good 
one,” he continued in a low tone, “ and if you’ll 
give us a hand, we’ll do as much for you some 
time.” 

“ Excuse me : it is impossible to-night,” an- 
swered Grant, turning away with the thought 
that some lawless mischief was about to be per- 
petrated. He little knew what it was which 
these men were plotting, nor how nearly the 
success or failure of their scheme would touch 
his own life. 

Turning into another part of the town, he 
walked on, aimlessly, as it seemed even to him- 


**MAJV P/?OPOS£S: GOP DISPOSES^ 133 

self, yet impelled to proceed. It was nearly 
dark when, passing not far from the jail, he felt 
a tap on his shoulder and was asked quietly : 
‘'Are you a supporter of law and order ? ” 

“ I hope so,” answered Grant. 

“ Then come this way ; you are needed,” was 
the response, and following his leader Grant 
Lucas presently found himself in the street run- 
ning in the rear of the jail. 

The guide entered the yard by means of a 
back gate, motioning his companion to follow, 
and fastening the entrance securely after them. 

Grant was about to ask for an explanation 
when the other said : 

“We have a prisoner in the jail whom we 
want to remove to-night to a safe spot until he 
can have a fair trial. A lot of roughs have 
planned to take him out of the hands of the law 
and punish him according to their own idea of 
justice, and we are determined to foil them if 
possible. In all probability he deserves to hang,” 
he continued, “ but a mob is not the proper in- 
strumentality. This way now. We only learned 
of the plans of the fellows by accident. One 
of the gang having drunken a little too freely, 
talked a little too freely in consequence; ha! 
hal.” 

The officer laughed softly as he led the way. 
Grant followed and found himself in a hollow 
12 


134 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


square formed by the projecting wings of the 
building, and in company with fifteen or twenty 
men who had been summoned to the spot on the 
same errand as himself — namely, to aid in main- 
taining the supremacy of the law. 

A light burned dimly, and Grant saw that the 
men were all armed with muskets and that the 
faces of all were concealed. 

The new-comer was assigned a place in the 
ranks, and a mask of black muslin, similar to 
that worn by the others, was offered him. 

What is that for ? ” asked the new recruit, 
with his characteristic bluntness. 

‘‘ Well,” answered the officer, smiling a little, 
“ it will be better, perhaps, for the welfare of 
those who help to foil those fellows not to be 
identified by the mob. They are a rough set, 
and they will carry torches likely; besides, if 
the prisoner is cleared he may inform on you 
himself some time, if it suits his purpose. These 
fellows are not to be depended on.” 

*‘A11 right,” answered Grant, taking the prof- 
fered means of concealment ; but he put it in his 
pocket instead of over his face, and reaching 
for the musket, which another tendered, he be- 
gan to examine it with the air of one accustomed 
to handling fire-arms. 

There was an almost oppressive silence in the 
immediate neighborhood of the jail, and all 


**MAJV PROPOSES: GOD DISPOSES:* 135 

sounds from a distance were heard with clear 
distinctness. 

Now and then a vehicle went rattling by the 
gloomy-looking brick building, where a portion 
of the guilty pined for freedom, while many, who 
were equally criminal in the sight of heaven, 
were grossly abusing the liberty which was 
granted to them. 

Time passed on. The clock in the corridor 
above told off the hours one by one, even to the 
slow, solemn strokes of midnight, and still the 
men stood silently waiting. 

The inactivity began to produce a feeling of 
restlessness, which manifested itself to the quick 
eye and ear of the superior, who said, firmly : 

** Stand steady, men : the crowd is beginning 
to gather in front of the jail.” 

There was an occasional shout to be heard, 
then silence again, until it seemed as if the whole 
town must be wrapped in slumber. 

What must have been the feelings of that 
prisoner, if he knew the danger which was 
menacing him ! if he knew that more than a hun- 
dred men, frenzied by a mistaken zeal for right, 
but more by the restless spirit which hates 
authority and defies restraint, many of them 
maddened by strong drink, were approaching to 
deal out to him what they called justice, while 
only a handful stood ready to attempt his defense! 


136 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


But time wore on, and those composing the 
guard began to believe that the attack had been 
postponed, and that they were keeping a useless 
watch. Entire silence seemed brooding over all 
things, when suddenly there arose a yell that 
sounded like the cry of wild beasts, rather than 
the voices of human beings. 

A little later blows were heard on the massive 
front door. At the same instant the prisoner 
was brought out at the back, and the guards, 
closing around him, moved softly yet rapidly 
in response to the quiet but firm command of the 
officer. 

Passing through the rear gate by wffiich Grant 
had been brought in, they proceeded noiselessly 
up the street, their ears filled with the shouts, 
yells and blows of the besiegers. 

Amid such a confusion of sounds it was im- 
possible to understand what was being said; but 
there was an awful significance in the swelling 
of the passionate tones, and the blows that re- 
sounded above the voices. 

The man whom they were seeking to lay 
hands upon had broken the laws of the land. 
He had trampled under foot the rights of his 
fellow-man; but would right be vindicated by 
the commission of another wrong ? Would the 
outraged law be honored by this wholesale viola- 
tion of the same ? If the judge on the bench 


**MAN PROPOSES: GOD DISPOSES:* 137 

sometimes perjures himself and disgraces his 
high office by conniving at wrong; if juries 
carefully selected and shielded from bias and 
passion, and solemnly sworn to weigh their ver- 
dict in the balances of candid judgment, free 
from prejudice and passion, sometimes con- 
demn the innocent and clear the guilty, what is 
to be hoped from a maddened crowd of un- 
reasoning, frenzied men, under no control but 
that of their own unbridled inclinations ? Alas 
for that community where the masses “ take the 
law into their own hands ! ” — we should rather 
say where they outrage and violate the law with 
their own hands. 

It was a motley company which the dim light 
of the coming day revealed guarding the rescued 
prisoner, far out on one of the roads leading 
from Goldburgh. They were still tramping 
on without much of military precision, but 
with steadfast purpose in their movements. It 
was barely light when a halt was called at a 
railroad station, and these men were released 
from the duty which they had voluntarily per- 
formed. The guns were stacked, and the officer, 
thanking them for the service they had rendered, 
hurried his charge on board the train just as it 
was moving out from the station. 

It was Grant Lucas’ first opportunity to see 
the countenance of the man whom he had 
12 * 


138 


STRUGGLING UPWARD, 


helped to rescue. The prisoner’s eyes were 
running listlessly over the masked faces before 
him. A moment later they rested on the one 
that was not concealed. Their eyes met. There 
was a simultaneous exclamation. 

The unknown man whom Grant had been 
assisting to guard all night was Fred 1 


CHAPTER XII. 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR. 

** Thou writest bitter things against me, and makest me to 
possess the iniquities of my youth. . . . Mine iniquities are 
gone over mine head : as a heavy burden they are too heavy for 


me.” 



E have seen that Fred had long since 


V V learned to abhor the course which he 
formerly pursued. The remembrance of his 
conduct was deeply humiliating and painful, and 
he felt that he could never cease to be humble 
and penitent. The recollection that some of his 
wasted opportunities were gone forever was pain- 
fully oppressive. 

If he could have returned to his home and 
made some amends for the grief which he had 
caused his best friends for the long agony of 
suspense, or the pain which a knowledge of his 
course could not fail to bring ! Oh, if he could 
only have asked and received forgiveness of that 
faithful, loving mother whose heart he had wrung 
so cruelly, his life, even as a Christian, would 
have looked to him more bright and attractive ! 


( 139 ) 


140 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


Alas ! all he could now do would avail nothing. 
Could he find her grave, he might wet it with 
repentant tears, and pour out his remorse and 
sorrow above the loved one’s silent resting- 
place, but no voice of forgiveness could come 
back to him from the departed. 

Reader, do not forget that while Christ is 
willing and able to save even to the uttermost 
all that come unto God by him, and while he 
gives us peace in believing, still the bright op- 
portunities which we have wasted can never 
come back to us. 

For the second time in his life Fred had 
found himself in the cell of a prison. He had 
been almost stunned at first by his arrest and 
separation from the baby, who was carried away, 
crying piteously. 

He felt for a time as if his repentance and 
reformation had come too late; as if his late 
sense of peace and pardon had been all a mis- 
take. 

When he had been arrested before He had 
resisted violently, but on this occasion he had 
allowed himself to be taken without a struggle. 
He did not even ask what offense he had com- 
mitted. He felt that a long catalogue of offenses 
stood charged against his name, and though they 
were canceled at the bar of heaven, earth kept 
the record still. But in the solitude of his con- 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR. 141 

finement he was tempted to yield to sinful hope- 
lessness, to restrain prayer before God, and to 
give himself up for lost. He reasoned that if 
God had really accepted him, he would not have 
permitted the misfortune which had now be- 
fallen him. 

He did not in his heart question the justice 
of his fate. He said it was his desert, and he 
yielded, but it was the yielding of utter despair. 

He thought of the little child and its cries 
and tears, and his burden seemed too great to be 
borne. But into the despair and darkness of 
that hour came, like a voice from heaven, the. 
loving message to which he had but just listened: 
“ Behold, I stand at the door and knock : if any 
man hear my voice, and open the door, I will 
come in to him, and will sup with him, and he 
with me.” 

He repeated the words aloud with tears of 
gratitude. “ I came not to call the rjghteous, 
but sinners to repentance. . . . Neither do I 
condemn thee ; go, and sin no more.” 

One after another, texts which the man of God 
had quoted, and thoughts which he had ex- 
pressed, flowed into his soul like cool, refresh- 
ing waters, and his faith rose up from the dust. 
He recalled the sublime trust of the Christian 
woman whose prayer had been the means, in 
God’s hand, of leading him to repentance ; and 


142 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


he prayed, long and earnestly, for a confidence 
so strong, a faith so unwavering, that nothing 
should ever be able to make it tremble. 

The days went by in unvarying monotony in 
so far as his outward condition was concerned ; 
but he was upheld by the promises of the word 
of God; and his jailer sometimes wondered 
whether the officers of the law had not made a 
mistake when they arrested this quiet, cheerful 
young man, who gave no trouble and received 
the slightest favor with thanks, and whose unos- 
tentatious devotions had not escaped his notice. 
Mistakes of this kind were sometimes made in 
this region ; but, on the other hand, the greatest 
villains have often tried to conceal their true 
characters under the cloak of outward piety. 

The jailer was perplexed; but he reflected 
that the problem was one that need not trouble 
him, and that all his duty in the matter con- 
sisted in keeping safe the prisoners in his care. 

We have learned from the preceding chapter 
what led to Fred’s imprisonment in Goldburgh, 
and we now return to the miners at Thunder 
Gap. 

Grant Lucas reached the camp just as the 
others, having eaten their dinner, were about to 
set off to work. Jeff Symmes was absent, but 
Grant, asking no questions and making no ex- 
planation in regard to his own absence, recalled 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR. 143 

to mind the swaying, shouting throng that had 
besieged the jail, and felt almost confident that 
the missing one was one of the number. 

“Did you see or hear anything of Fred 
or the baby?” questioned one of the men pres- 
ently. 

“Yes, I saw the baby,” answered Grant. 

“Where?” 

A dozen voices asked the question, and all 
listened in interest for the answer. 

“Mrs. Pope has him, and says he has been 
placed in her care.” 

“ Mrs. Pope ! ” ejaculated one. “ I should 
have given F^'ed credit for better sense than 
that.” 

“ I don’t think Fred had anything to do with 
it, poor fellow,” answered Grant. He had on 
the way home debated within himself whether he 
should allow his friends to remain in ignorance 
of the fate of these two, or whether he should 
tell them the truth, unpleasant as it was. He 
now decided to reserve nothing, and related the 
story of last night’s adventure, while his audience 
listened breathlessly. 

There was no little excitement over the story, 
and there followed a zealous defense of Fred, 
which would have told him, could he have heard 
it, that he had some warm friends in the locality 
where his arrest had been made. 


144 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


As for the baby being left in care of Mrs. 
Pope, “the boys” protested that it was not 
to be thought of 

“I would not trust her with a wooden doll 
that belonged to me ! ” exclaimed Dan, in great 
disgust. Grant was the only one among them 
who was calm and could look at the subject dis- 
passionately. 

“ But we can do nothing. We cannot help it 
— don’t you see?” he said. “We have no 
claims on the baby except through Fred, and 
unless he is cleared and can prove that Mrs. 
Gills gave the child to him, he is lost to us 
all ! ” 

This was the bare truth, and no one could 
gainsay it. The men went to their work in 
gloomy, dejected silence. 

The question of the child’s removal from camp 
had proved a troublesome one. It had now been 
solved in a most unexpected manner, and the 
solution was far from satisfactory. 

Day after day passed and Jeff Symmes did 
not return to his companions. His reception 
would have been the reverse of cordial, for 
all were now agreed that he had been the 
prime agent in bringing about Fred’s imprison- 
ment. 

But although correct in their surmises as to 
Jeff’s complicity in Fred’s arrest and also in the 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR. 145 


barbarous attempt to take him from the jail, 
they little knew how serious had been the result 
to himself. 

The mob had demolished the front door of 
the jail, and rushed into the building, wrought 
up to the highest pitch of madness, and thirsting 
for the commission of the desperate deed which 
they had come to perform. 

One after another the cells were examined; 
but the trembling wretches whom they en- 
countered one by one were left unharmed. 
They did not find the man whom they were 
seeking. 

On and on they went, yelling and howl- 
ing like demons, as they proceeded on their 
search. 

At last they knew the truth. They had been 
beaten in spite of their numbers. Their prey 
had been snatched away from them just as they 
were about to secure it. 

•The baffled rufflans were like a pack of hun- . 
gry wolves that have scented blood. They 
attacked the jailer and beat him unmercifully, 
and when his wife attempted to assist him, one 
of the men dealt her a blow which rendered her 
insensible. 

As soon as it was generally known that the 
prisoner whom they were seeking had been 
removed, the mob surged back down the street 
13 K 


146 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


to a strongly built warehouse which had for- 
merly been used for a jail, in further search, and 
a squad of policemen entered the prison to find 
only a few on the scene of the lawless deed. 
These were promptly arrested. 

Among the number was Jeff Symmes, who a 
little later found himself a prisoner in the very 
cell lately occupied by the man whom he had 
hunted down purely from personal animosity. 
He knew that it was Fred’s cell, for when the 
light crept in, and he, like a caged animal, was 
pacing to and fro in the narrow space allotted 
him, he saw on the wall penciled the name of 
“ Fred,” together with the date of yesterday, and 
underneath the words : 

‘‘.^the wicked restore the pledge, give again 
that he -had robbed, walk in the statutes of life, 
without committing iniquity; he shall surely 
live, he shall not die. None of his sins that he 
hath committed shall be mentioned unto him : 
he hath done that which is lawful and right ; ^e 
shall surely live.” 

Jeff was sober now, and he could not repress 
the thoughts that would rise up to confront 
him. 

Fred had been one of those who had profited 
by the fraud committed against the Quick Gulch 
Mining Company. He had voluntarily come 
forward and confessed his fault in the face of 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR. 147 


death at the hands of those whom he had 
wronged. 

More than this, he had carefully saved his 
earnings since he had been among them, and had 
repaid in full his share in the ill-gotten gains, 
besides making reparation to other parties for 
wrongs done them. He had been obliging 
and helpful to all, and was much liked in the 
camp. 

Jeff Symmes tried in vain to put away his un- 
comfortable reflections; but try as hard as he 
might, he could not deny the humiliating truth 
that Fred’s superiority to himself, and his popu- 
larity with Grant and the rest, were the secret 
of his dislike and of his persistent attacks. 
And now he had over-reached himself. He was 
attached to the baby, as were all the rest, 
and he had not counted upon Fred’s being ar- 
rested with the child in his arms, and the little 
one thus lost to them all. Least of all had he 
counted on being himself brought to his present 
position. 

He had gained nothing and had lost much. He 
had dined again at Pope’s, despite the warnings 
of his friends, and had drank freely of the wine 
which his hostess proffered so liberally, and had 
afterward lost to Mr. Chickham the earnings of 
many days in “a quiet, social game,” as the 
gambler had called it. 


148 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


At dinner the question was started whether 
the captured ranger were really, as some thought, 
the notorious Alf. Lambert who shot Charley 
Wakeham, and Mrs. Pope had said that he 
ought to be taken from the jail and hung. 

Jeff had promised, with what he had then 
considered an air of great gallantry and prow- 
ess: 

“ It shall be done!” 

Now he had done his best, or rather his worst, 
to redeem his tipsy pledge, and here he was, and 
what cared Mrs. Pope or her confederate, Mr. 
Chickham? He had told his companions in 
camp that he was not a fool, but he now began 
to suspect that he was. 

From his grated window the prisoner fre- 
quently saw Pope’s carriage, drawn by the dash- 
ing, black span, and containing Mrs. Pope’s gay 
figure together with the baby, and generally 
driven by the elegantly dressed Mr. Chickham 
in a shining silk hat, and displaying a prominent 
watch chain. 

Jeff Symmes ground his teeth together at the 
sight. Each time he saw it, he was exasperated 
more and more, and yet some unaccountable 
fascination led him each day to look out for the 
spirited black horses with the silver-mounted 
harness, and the handsome carriage with its 
showy occupants. 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR, 149 

The child usually wore a grave look on his 
small face; but one evening when they were 
driving slowly, he noticed that Mr. Chick-! 
ham was holding the lines carelessly and look- 
ing at the little fellow, to whom he was talk- 
ing in an amusing manner, judging by the 
motions of his head and the display of his white 
teeth. 

The baby was laughing and clapping his 
little hands, and Jeff’s anger rose to white heat 
at the sight. 

“They are actually making him happy and 
contented, and forgetful of his old home and 
friends ! ” he said through his shut teeth ; and 
he hated these people who had made a silly 
dupe of him, worse than he had ever hated 
Fred. 

It was true that little Harry was beginning to 
feel contented in his new home. He had cried 
almost incessantly at first, to be taken to Fred, 
and later when he had seen Grant, the old memo- 
ries had been revived, and he had troubled his 
new possessors not a little. But the child was 
not much more than a baby, and new impres- 
sions had soon, to a great degree, effaced the 
old ones. 

He had nearly as many to pet and play with 
him as at the camp. Not knowing his real 
name, and not caring to use it if she had known 
13 * 


150 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


it, Mrs. Pope had named the child Victor; and 
with his childish beauty, and pretty baby ways, 
he did indeed speedily conquer nearly all who 
came under his influence. The woman had not 
. thought anything about the significance of the 
name, but chose it merely because she liked its 
sound. Nor did she entertain any intention of 
establishing a baby monarchy with herself for 
one of the subjects. She was a gay woman of 
the world, caring more for the frivolities of life, 
which she called “pleasure,” than for anything 
else. She looked Upon the child as a pet and 
plaything with which to amuse herself; to wear 
the pretty costumes which pleased her feminine 
tastes, and to be brought forward and shown off 
to her friends or sent out of the way in charge 
of his nurse, when she did not want to be troubled 
with him. 

Alas for the poor baby! He had been in 
danger of growing up a savage when in the 
hands of his Indian captor ; his guardian had 
often felt troubled in view of the evil influences 
of camp life on his young, impressible mind; 
but what were his prospects now ? The Grand 
Hotel was the resort of those who indulged in 
all vice freely, and with whom profanity was the 
customary mode of emphasis. 

The child had seen a pack of cards occasion- 
ally in the camp, and his childish fancy was 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR. 151 


attracted by their bright colors ; now they met 
his eyes too often to be noticed. 

Was the consecrated child of a Christian 
mother to be left to grow up in this contamina- 
ting atmosphere ? We shall see. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


HUNTED. 

“ Their feet are swift to shed blood : destruction and misery 
are in their ways : and the way of peace have they not known : \ 
there is no fear of God before their eyes.” 

M onths had passed since Fred had been 
taken from the Goldburgh jail and hur-. 
ried away to a place of safety. Since that time 
he had waited in a close, ill-ventilated prison for 
the time of his trial to come. 

The out-door life which he had long known 
unfitted him for the confinement, and illness was 
the result ; and when he at last emerged from 
his cell his nearest friends would scarcely have 
recognized him, so changed was his appearance. 
A heavy growth of beard, added to the prison 
pallor on his features, made him seem older by 
years. 

On being brought to trial, he found to his 
great surprise that the specific charge alleged 
against him was child-stealing. He pleaded not 
guilty, and told his story in a straightforward 
( 152 ) 


HUNTED. 


153 


way, and as no witnesses appeared for the prose- 
cution, the result was a speedy acquittal. 

But kidnapping was not the crime for which 
the mob that he had so narrowly escaped had 
sought to forestall the law. 

As he reached the door of the court-room 
after his discharge he was accosted by a young 
man whom he had noticed among the specta- 
tors, and whose face seemed to wear a strangely 
familiar look. 

Frederic Barton, his Christian name, was the 
one which he had given in court, and it was by 
this name that he was now addressed. Fred 
bowed inquiringly. 

“This way, sir,” answered the young man, 
whose slight, boyish figure was in strong con- 
trast to Fred’s tall form. There was no air of 
mystery about this new acquaintance, but, on 
the contrary, a brisk, matter-of-fact manner, 
which again seemed familiar. The two went 
down the street together like old friends, but 
not another word was said until they were clear 
of the crowd that had filled the court-house. 
For here, as in the more highly cultured por- 
tions of our country, there existed among large 
masses of the people of both sexes that morbid, 
depraved taste for the tainted streams of criminal 
proceedings, which makes the court-room the 
resort of crowds who oftentimes see and hear 


154 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


that which were better unknown, and which 
none who are pure-minded will needlessly en- 
counter. 

When Fred and his companion had turned the 
corner, the latter quickened his steps, saying : 

“A little faster now ; there is no time to be 
lost.” 

What do you mean ? ” asked Fred. 

‘‘Wait a little and I will explain,” was the 
quiet answer. A moment later the little fellow 
suddenly darted into an alley leading from the 
main street, and, motioning his companion to 
follow, entered a tumble-down building a few 
steps from the entrance. Fred followed, won- 
dering not a little what the next proceeding 
would be. 

The two had scarcely reached the interior 
when a company of horsemen galloped furiously 
up the street which they had just left. 

“That was a pretty close run,” said Fred’s 
companion, shaking his head to one side with a 
quick, jerking motion; “too close to be very 
pleasant. Those fellows are after you,” he con- 
tinued. “ They are the same gang that Tuttle 
snatched you away from at Goldburgh. I wish 
you were there in jail this minute: you’d be 
safer than you are. But if the hounds have 
numbers and .keen scent, the fox has cunning. 


HUNTED. 


155 


and we’ll see what that can do for you. You 
may trust me,” he went on ; “I know of one or 
two good hiding-places, and a few tricks in the 
way of disguises. By the way, I reckon you 
have not changed a great deal since those fel- 
lows saw you last — the leaders I mean, for I’ll 
venture some of them never set eyes on you.” 

“ Yes, I must look somewhat differently,” re- 
plied Fred ; “ I was closely shaven then, and 
had some flesh on my bones,” he added, with 
a laugh. 

Capital ! ” exclaimed the other ; so much 
the better for you. Give me your hat and take 
this. Now watch through the window on this 
side, and after I have climbed over the fence on 
the right I’ll drop my handkerchief to mark the 
spot; do you shoulder that sack of corn and 
come after me; but go in on the left. Walk 
slowly and deliberately, so that if any one of them 
should see you he will not feel it incumbent 
upon him to follow you. We’ll be obliged to 
take every precaution for both our sakes. If 
they get you this time they will make quick 
work of you ; and if I am caught at this trick it 
will not be very pleasant for me. When you 
reach the house, just open the door and go in 
as if you were at home. There is no one there ; 
lit is a kind of den where I keep house by my- 
self when I am in town.” 


156 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


He went out, and Fred watched his new friend 
as he strode away with a bundle of hay under 
his arm. He walked with the air of one who 
was a little tired, and taking out his handker- 
chief wiped his face just before climbing the 
fence. He seemed to stuff the article hastily 
into his pocket, but Fred saw it fall to the 
ground. 

He now took up the sack of corn, and found 
that his friend’s caution about walking slowly 
was altogether unnecessary. He had not realized 
his weakness before. 

Bowing under the load, it required his utmost 
strength to stagger along. As he made his way 
slowly and painfully he heard the clatter of 
horses’ hoofs behind him, and presently a couple 
of mounted men passed him at full gallop. 
They glanced at him, and, dashing on, disap- 
peared. It was not long before they wheeled 
and came back at full speed, drawing up their 
panting horses just before Fred. 

“ Did you see a tall, baby-faced fellow in a 
black sombrero, and a little dapper chap in a 
rather broad-brimmed drab felt hat, something 
like your own, pass along here ? ” asked one. 

“ Nay,” answered Fred. 

“Are you sure you did not ? ” 

“ Very sure,” answered Fred. 

The two horsemen exchanged a word or two 


HUNTED. 


" 167 


about feeling certain that they were on the right 
track. 

** Will you swear that you don’t know where 
the fellows are that we are hunting ? ” asked the 
other man. 

“ Nay, friend,” answered Fred, I will not 
swear. I have told thee that two persons an- 
swering to thy description have not passed me. 
Let that suffice thee.” 

“ What have you got in that sack ? ” 

** Corn,” was answered. 

“ Where are you taking it ? ” 

** Even to the house beyond.” 

“ Take it along then,” answered one of the 
men. Come on, Phil, we are only losing time,” 
and away they clattered. 

When Fred reached the house, panting and 
exhausted, he found it empty, and he sat down, 
bewildered and feeling like one in a dream. 

The description given by the horseman of 
the baby-faced ” individual whom they were 
seeking brought to his mind the little child 
who was seldom absent from his thoughts. He 
wondered where he was now, and who had 
charge of him. He wondered if he had quite 
forgotten the F’ed ” of whom he was once so 
fond, or if he would remember him should he 
again see him. This thought reminded him 
of his altered appearance, and rising he went 
14 


158 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


to a small mirror hanging on the opposite 
wall. 

What a transformation ! The face that looked 
from the little carved frame was so unlike his 
own that he himself would not have recognized 
it, had he not known that it was the reflection 
of his own countenance. 

A little later his friend entered by another door. 

Well, we have doubled again on the hounds,’* 
he said, recurring to his former simile. ‘‘You 
must get away from Plainville as quickly as pos- 
sible, but we must not be too hasty or we will 
fail entirely. I’ll tell you now, those fellows 
think you are Alf Lambert, who killed Charley 
Wakeham three years ago out at Cedar Town. 
That is what they were going to hang you for 
before. That is what they are going to hang 
you for now, if they can catch you. 

“ I know that you are not the man, for I took 
a good look at you in the court-room. Your 
forehead and eyes are no more like his than 
mine are. But an angel from heaven couldn’t 
convince those fellows ! ” 

The speaker paused and sighed heavily, ap- 
parently over the obduracy of men who claimed 
to be so much wiser than others. 

“ The officers of the law are on the track of 
the real man,” the speaker resumed, “ and they 
will convince them in due time. In the mean- 


f 


HUNTED. 159 

time you must be kept dark. If they would let 
whisky alone for a little while they might be 
more like men and less like wild beasts. But 
we must work while we are resting,” he con- 
tinued. “ Do you clean this revolver and load 
it carefully, and I will look up your outfit. I 
wish you weren’t quite so tall,” eying his com- 
panion’s long limbs critically. I could let you 
have a suit that would match better with the silk 
hat which I used to wear at a softer period of 
my existence, thinking thereby to add a trifle 
to my respectability as well as to my height. 
But never mind; gentlemen in seedy apparel 
often wear silk hats.” 

Fred laughed heartily at this cool allusion to 
his shabby appearance, but the other looked as 
grave as a judge. 

He brought the hat, together with a cane, 
which he said also belonged to the “ soft period,” 
and might be useful in an emergency. 

Stand up and let me brush you off a little,” 
he commanded, in an authoritative way. 

“There, you look better,” he concluded. 
“ Now put the hat on so,” setting it rakishly on 
one side. “ Let me see if you can handle the 
stick. Swagger a little in your gait. There, 
that will do. Now you must have a cigar, and 
if anything should happen before you are ofifj 
don’t forget your character — hist I ” 


160 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


Catching up the sombrero and the drab felt 
hat, he stuffed them, one after another, into a 
hole in the chimney which had been made to 
insert the stovepipe. 

One after another, the two hats disappeared, 
and the little man was sitting with a preoccupied 
air by the window, examining the lock of an 
4 old rifle, when the door was unceremoniously 
opened and three men entered. 

“ See here. Simp,” said one, who was appar- 
ently the leader, ‘^stir out and help us a bit. 
I reckon you didn’t know that the fellow they 
turned scot-free at the court-house to-day was 
the chap that killed Wakeham.” 

*^No, that I didn’t,” answered the little fel- 
low, springing to his feet. “Where did he 
go?” 

“ He’s lurking in this very neighborhood, ac- 
cording to some of the bystanders who saw him 
leave the court-house with another man. If we 
had been ten minutes sooner we would have 
met them at the very door.” 

“ If Alf Lambert is in this neighborhood he’ll 
find it no safe harbor,” was the reply, as the 
host took a cap from a peg near where he was 
sitting when the men entered. 

“Excuse me a bit,” he added, with a quiet 
nod to the tall man in the silk hat who was 
lazily puffing a cigar. The tall man bowed, 


HUNTED. 


161 


and his friend went out with the new-comers 
and did not return until late in the evening. 

Fred had looked the picture of easy indiffer- 
ence to the fate of any when the Vigilantes left 
the house; but before they had gone many 
rods in their search he was walking the floor 
excitedly in spite of his weakness and weariness. 
Was it fear — this emotion which affected him so 
powerfully ? Was it this second narrow escape 
from the mob which was blindly seeking his 
life that so aroused him ? 

Could it be fear which brought the hot flush 
to the face so pale but a little while before? 
No, there was no fear in the emotions which 
struggled for the mastery. His thoughts were 
far away from his present surroundings, and 
the remorse and pain of prison experience re- 
turned. The sins of his youth again rose up 
before him to torment him. Though forgiven 
and mentioned no more by his heavenly Father, 
they still remained indelibly recorded on the 
page of his life’s history. 

Darkness had fallen over all things and shad- 
ows filled the room when his friend returned. 
He came in alone with a lantern in his hand, 
and smiled in a knowing way as he caught his 
visitor’s eye. 

I have been gone a good while,” he said, 
‘*but I got off from the fellows as soon as I 
14* L 


162 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


could, on the plea that you and I were planning 
an excursion. I guess there was no falsehood 
in that, eh ? ” 

No, I think not,” answered Fred. 

‘‘Well, then,” continued the bustling little feh 
low, “ now we must hurry up and get everything 
arranged and get some sleep so as to start early 
in the morning — after daylight, though, for if 
there is no danger of your being recognized, 
the more of those fellows that see us off the 
better. Fve got two of the fastest horses in the 
country — Neptune, the one I intend for your 
riding, can swim anything in the way of water 
that you will be likely to meet with this side of 
the Pacific. I tell you this now, because I may 
forget it in the morning. Keep him as long as 
you need him, and bring him or send him back 
when you have done with him and can do so 
safely. And now — wait, let me make my sug- 
gestions first,” he said, as Fred was about to 
speak ; “ you haven’t much money. I’ll venture. 
Put this in your pocket. I’ll trust you to re- 
turn it when it is convenient, and in the mean- 
time I shall not need it — why, man, what is the 
matter? You are not above taking a favor from 
a fellow who may need the same at your hands 
any day, are you ? ” 

Fred had covered his face with his hands. He 
did not speak for some time. At last he lifted 


HUNTED. 


163 


up his head and looked steadily at the one who 
had proved so true a friend to him in this ex- 
tremity. 

You are too kind and disinterested,” he said, 
**to incur so much trouble and risk for a 
stranger whom you may never see again. You 
must be a true follower of Christ. But before 
accepting your kindness further, I want you to 
tell me something about yourself, if you have 
no objection, and how you came to take it into 
your head to do this for me. Do you know 
who I am ? ” 

‘‘ No, that I do not,” replied the other, “ but 
I do know that you are innocent of the crime 
charged against you, that of killing Charley 
Wakeham. Yes, I’ll tell you something about 
myself, if you wish,” he added, after a little pause. 
‘‘ But it is quite a long story ; just wait till I get 
us a bit of supper, and then we will have the 
narrative before retiring.” 


CHAPTER XIV. 

A PAGE FROM A LIFE’S HISTORY. 


** Avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath. 

“ Therefore if thine enemy hunger, feed him ; if he thirst, 
give him drink.” 

I WILL make my story as short as I can,’* 
began the narrator, “ for the incidents 
which I am going to tell you are pleasant neither 
to hear nor to tell. They took place far from 
here, in the town where I was born. I have 
often heard my mother say that my father was 
one of the most steady, upright, industrious men 
in the community at the time when they were 
married ; and I can remember him as a kind, 
indulgent father, providing comforts in abun- 
dance for all of us. But there came a time 
in my childish recollection — it came suddenly 
and without warning — when everything was 
changed. 

“ Of course the change was really gradual, but 
the knowledge of the terrible truth found my 
little sister and myself entirely unprepared for 
the blow.” 

( 164 ) 


A PAGE FROM A LIFERS HISTORY, 165 


The hitherto careless face of the young man 
became strongly agitated, and he interrupted 
his story to say in a fierce tone : “ If there be 
justice in earth or heaven, those who bring about 
these changes that seem like a transition from 
paradise to perdition, will be sorely punished! 
In place of abundance of food, there was con- 
tinual hunger. In place of comfortable clothing, 
there was cold and nakedness. In place of love 
and kindness, there were blows and curses. 

** My childhood, from that time, was one of 
labor and privation such as would have taxed 
the strength of a strong man. I have been 
called ‘ The Little Giant ’ in raillery, on account 
of my diminutive stature. I tell you I was 
dwarfed by hard work and hunger combined. 
But the hardest part was seeing my mother and 
my little sister suffer for the common necessities 
of life, while the families of those who had been 
the cause of the hardness of our lot were living 
in luxury. I was tempted in those days to the 
commission of arson, theft and murder ! Had it 
not been for my mother and a friend who used 
often to share her scanty earnings with us, I had 
not been here perhaps, to tell you this story. 

But I have not come to the worst. One of 
the principal wholesale liquor-dealers had started 
two or three saloons, and what with one bait 
and .another, he lured in every man whom he 


166 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


could lay clutches on, and then plied them with 
a kind of stuff that not only intoxicated, but 
made demons of those who drank it. And while 
his well-dressed boy had plenty of pocket- 
money to spend, and a chance to get an educa- 
tion, I was obliged to do odd jobs wherever I 
could get them, and rarely knew what it was to 
have a sufficient meal.” 

The narrator paused, and after a time began 
again with apparent effort. 

“ Well, I am skirting around the hardest part 
of my story ; but I may as well tell it, and have 
done with it. 

While in a state of drunken fury, my father 
shot and killed a man in front of the saloon 
where he had got the poison. He was arrested, 
and, after lying in jail for some time, was tried 
and found guilty of murder in the first degree, 
and sentenced to be hung. 

‘‘ Can you imagine how a boy old enough to 
understand, would feel, fighting with the wolf of 
poverty day after day, under the shadow of such 
a cloud ? I might make a few cents here and 
there, perhaps a dollar now and then, and have 
a comfortable fire and a good supper for myself 
and those at home ; but there was always the 
skeleton at the feast, the horror that could not 
be forgotten. The time was drawing nearer and 
nearer when father was to be hung ! And the 


A PAGE FROM A LIFE'S HISTORY. 167 


time came round too surely, and he was hung. 
You have read of such scenes often enough not 
to need any description of this particular one. I 
doubt whether I could describe it, though it is 
stamped plainly enough on my memory — the 
horrible details as they appeared in the columns 
of the newspapers — the farewell words, the ad- 
justing of the black cap and the noose, the fall 
of the trap and all. It furnishes always the 
nightmare of my dreams, and I have lived it over 
oftener than I can tell. 

“ But this is unpleasant for you as well as for 
me,” he said, looking at Fred’s pale face, and 
it is growing late too ; I’ll hurry on to the end. 
I was a man from that awful time. I felt that I 
was aged, though still young in years. I went 
to work for the man who had ruined my father. 
I felt that I must earn a livelihood for my mother 
and sister, but underneath this purpose lay hid- 
den another, scarcely known to myself, a steady 
purpose of revenge, how or when I knew not, 
but some time in the future. 

I was faithful in the discharge of my duties, 
was bringing comfort to those dependent on me ; 
the opportunity had not yet come, but I was 
biding my time. 

I little knew what was before me. I thought 
it would be my turn to strike next ; but there was 
yet another blow to fall on me. I was charged 


168 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


with embezzling money from my employer, and 
sent to jail. You have been imprisoned unjustly, 
and you need not that I should tell you my feel- 
ings. I was offered my liberty if I would confess ; 
but I had no confession to make, and the weary 
days went by. I will hurry on to the close. I 
escaped from the jail wrapped in the cloak of 
my liberator, who bravely remained behind to 
meet what fate she might. 

“ The next day my innocence came to light. 
The son of my employer had been the thief and 
had thrown the suspicion on me, or at least had 
allowed it to rest where it had fallen. Being 
obliged, on account of some other rascality, to 
run away from home, he left a letter of confes- 
sion. He no longer needed me as a substitute 
to lie in jail and bear the privation and disgrace 
of theft in his stead, since he was out of reach, 
and so he nobly confessed ! ” added the speaker 
with intense bitterness. 

“ I vowed to revenge myself on both father 
and son if occasion ever offered. I believe the 
old man is dead now. I have heard that he 
died in the ditch, as he deserved ; but if his son 
is living, and I ever come in contact with him, 
let him look out! ” 

There was silence for some time. Each 
seemed wrapped in his own thoughts. At last 
Fred spoke. 


A PAGE FROM A LIFE'S HISTORY. 169 


“ But you have not told me what prompted 
you to perform the great service which you have 
rendered me,” he said in a tone that was so un- 
like his own that his companion turned and 
looked at him curiously. 

- Why, don’t you see ? ” he said. ** I have a 
fellow-feeling for the wrongfully accused and 
friendles|. And then my foster-sister, the one 
who let me out of jail, made me promise at the 
time that I would always try to help the op- 
pressed.” 

“ Have you ever thought,” asked Fred, that 
a time might come when your promise of succor 
and your vow of revenge might conflict with 
each other ? ” 

There was a little start. 

“ What do you mean ? ” was asked. 

I mean,” responded the other unwaveringly, 
that the time for your revenge has come. It 
is just and right that you should know whom 
you are harboring and befriending with your 
means and at the risk of your life. You are 
Simpson Harris — ” 

“And you ? ” asked the other breathlessly. 

“ I am Fred Rader ! ” 

There was an interval of silence pierced only 
by the chirp of the crickets, and the two men 
looked into each other’s faces long and earnestly; 
then, without a word, Simpson Harris, for he 
15 


170 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


had not disowned the name, rose from his chair, 
and went out hastily, closing the door behind 
him. 

Ah! what a powerful illustration was here, 
of the helplessness of the unregenerate soul to 
cope with temptation. This man had admirable 
qualities. He was brave and kind. He had 
proved his willingness to risk his property and 
even his life in the interests of another having 
no claims upon him, save the common claims 
of humanity and misfortune. He was a philan- 
thropist, but he was not a Christian. He had 
many times performed noble, helpful deeds of 
kindness, but he had held out against the per- 
suasions of his mother and sisters, “ not to leave 
the other undone.” 

Now the Master had, as it were, come to him in 
person with the message : Love your enemies, 
bless them that curse you, do good to them that 
hate you . . . that ye may be the children of 
your Father which is in heaven : for he maketh 
his sun to rise on the evil and on the gqod, and 
sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.” 

Who was he that he should decree the death 
of this one, because of any offense against him- 
self, cruel indeed, but committed when the per- 
petrator was a mere boy ? Besides, was not this 
one himself under the shadow of the curse which 
had marred his own life ? 


A PAGE FROM A LIFE'S HISTORY. 171 


Who was he that he should decide that the 
offender should be hurried out of the world at 
the hands of a cruel mob, who would put him 
to death for a crime of which he was innocent? 

But then, he, the injured one, had waited all 
these years for his revenge, nursing his wrongs 
in all that time. Now the opportunity had 
come, and should he forego the vengeance which 
seemed prepared to his hand? What human 
power could have planned the circumstances 
which thus appeared to open the way before 
him ? 

Besides he might now take ample revenge 
without lifting his own hand against this one 
who had so wronged him, and whose conduct, 
together with that of his father, had cast a 
shadow across his own mother’s life, which 
nothing in this world could ever lighten. His 
father had died on the scaffold. His grand- 
mother had sunk under the burden of her grief ; 
his mother ever rested under the unlifted cloud 
of the same great sorrow. His sister and him- 
self could never forget that their father had been 
hanged for murder ! 

Had he not a right to this revenge ? Did not 
his father’s memory, coming back from the old, 
happy days that seemed so long ago, demand it? 

As for Fred, he made no attempt to escape 


172 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


from the house. He felt that if his late friend 
had turned to be his bitterest enemy, there was 
no hope for him. He felt that his own crime 
was not commensurate with the penalty that 
awaited him, in case of his betrayal ; but then 
there was his father’s sin looming up dark and 
terrible before him. This son had been made to 
suffer long and cruelly for his father’s misdoing, 
and was he deserving of a better fate ? 

He did not hope for mercy at the hands of 
the one whom he and his had wronged so keenly; 
and yet he felt no fear as he sat there listening 
and waiting. 

Other men had died for their own crimes and 
the crimes of others. Pardoned sinners had died 
bravely and fearlessly ; and why should he doubt 
that strength would be given him if his time 
were near ? 

He thought of the baby, and prayed in his 
heart for its well-being and the protection of the 
great Father. 

Then, resting his head on the table beside him, 
he slept as soundly as if a death the most terri- 
ble had not been threatening him; slept to 
dream of his mother and her prayers ; to dream 
of meeting her in a fair, wide place, with the 
well-remembered smile on her face. 

He never knew how long he had slept when 
he was awakened by the trampling of horses’ 


A PAGE FROM A LIFE'S HISTORY. 173 


hoofs outside. He raised up his head and waited. 
Were they surrounding the house before enter- 
ing, to prevent the possibility of escape ? 

Memory went back to his rescue from death 
at Quick Gulch camp, and then took in the 
fearful details of the danger that menaced him 
at the hands of Captain Ralph and his men, and 
later still, his rescue from the Vigilantes when 
they attacked the jail at Goldburgh. Would 
there be any interposition in his behalf to-night, 
or was his time at hand ? 

Ah, there had been interposition by him who 
has said : I will never leave thee nor forsake 
thee.” 

A little later Simpson Harris entered the 
house alone, 

“ Well, Fred,” he began in a quick, embar- 
rassed way, ‘‘you said a while ago that you 
thought I must be a Christian. I am afraid I 
am very far from being one ; but the devil has 
been beaten this time. Let bygones be bygones ; 
and now I think perhaps we had better take 
time by the forelock and get out of this before 
some of those fellows get on the scent again, 
and give us another call. The horses are wait- 
ing. It is too bad that you got no sleep ! ” 

” I have slept, but you have not,” answered 
Fred. 

“ I am all right,” answered Simpson heartily. 

15 * 


174 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


“ If you are ready, we’ll to the saddle and away 
before those rascals get a description of your 
face from some good-for-nothing reporter or 
other.” 

As Simpson was about to extinguish the light, 
Fred grasped his hand. 

“ My friend,” he said earnestly, looking into 
his eyes, “ you say you are not a Christian. Let 
me tell you then that you ought to be one. 
God has given you the nobleness of soul which 
you possess that it might be used in his service 
and for his honor and glory.” 

Simpson made no reply except by a pressure 
of the hand which held his ; and the two went 
out into the darkness together. 


CHAPTER XV. 


A PLACE OF REFUGE. 


“A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of 
silver. ... He that rebuketh a man afterwards shall find more 
favor than he that flatter eth with the tongue. . . . Faithful are 
the wounds of a friend.” 



REDERIC RADER and Simpson Harris 


traveled for many miles without a word, 
each busy with his own thoughts, and the silence 
unbroken except by the sound of the horses’ 


hoofs. 


It was a journey long to be remembered by 
these two thus meeting after years of separation. 
A drizzling rain began soon after they had started, 
and continued without cessation during the en- 
tire night. 

At last Simpson spoke : 

I am going to take you to a friend of mine 
who will harbor you as long as you may need 
to hide, and defend you with his life if neces- 
sary. You will find him rather a queer speci- 
men; but just make up your mind to accept his 
eccentricities and humor them a little, and you 


( 175 ) 


176 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


will get on splendidly together. Don’t say any- 
thing about your acquaintance with me. I’ll 
introduce you as my friend, and that will be all 
the passport you will need. There are only two 
in the family, the man. Black, and his sister, a 
girl ten or twelve years of age, who is equal to 
a newspaper reporter for finding out things far 
and wide. I’ll venture she will be able to let 
you know when Alf Lambert is captured, and 
anything else you may want to learn. Don’t 
appear in the least surprised at any of their 
peculiarities. They lived for a time among the 
Indians, which may account for much that will 
strike you as strange. The girl’s name, for in- 
stance, is Raven Wing.” 

That certainly sounds like an Indian name,’* 
remarked Fred. 

‘‘Yes, and it suits her admirably,” replied 
Simpson. “ Her hair is, I believe, the blackest 
I ever saw, and matches her eyes and com- 
plexion. Her brother generally calls her 
‘ Raven;’ but the Wing should not be lost from 
the name, for when it comes to a question of 
speed, you will almost be ready to believe that 
she can fly. She has a rifle of her own, and is 
as good a shot as you or I. 

“We will reach the cabin just about daylight. 
Whatever the family may have for breakfast, 
partake heartily and insure a lasting welcome.” 


A PLACE OF REFUGE. 


177 


Sure enough, soon after surrounding objects 
began to be dimly visible in the early dawn, 
they emerged from what would have seemed to 
many a pathless woods into a clearing of con- 
siderable size, bearing evidence of careful culti- 
vation. Smoke was seen curling from the chim- 
ney of a cabin near the forest, and a savory odor 
greeted the travelers’ nostrils at nearly the same 
instant. 

“ I can smell that breakfast already,” said Fred. 
“ You told me to eat heartily ; if it tastes as ap- 
petizing as it smells, there is no danger that I 
shall fail to do my part.” 

“ Then you are sure to win the good-will of 
your host and hostess,” answered Simpson. 

Hello ! the house ! ” he vociferated, drawing 
rein just outside the yard. A couple of dogs 
answered the summons, barking threateningly. 

Presently the door opened and a man made 
his appearance, his fine, intelligent face in strange 
contrast with his rude surroundings. But he 
paid no attention whatever to the saturated trav- 
elers sitting in their saddles just outside the bars; 
proceeding instead to administer a sound casti- 
gation to the dogs with a piece of rope. The 
animals retreated, yelping, to their kennel, and 
were pursued by a lecture from their master. 
How much of this they understood I will not 
undertake to say. At last the dogs gave a pro- 


178 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


longed howl, and apparently somewhat mollified 
by this seeming token of intelligence, the man 
turned his attention to the waiting horsemen. 

Judging by the quantity of words bestowed 
on the dogs, Fred expected a somewhat volumin- 
ous greeting when at last it should come ; but 
in this he was mistaken. The man’s volubility 
seemed to have been exhausted in his previous 
effort, and he met his guests with a taciturn air 
that would have done credit to a genuine son of 
the forest. 

He let down the bars and motioned Fred and 
Simpson to ride up to the door, and, when they 
had dismounted, led away the horses, leaving 
the visitors standing at the threshold. 

A moment later the door was thrown wide 
open, and a brown little hand, reaching from 
somewhere behind it, placed a couple of chairs 
invitingly before the tired riders. 

“ Damp morning,” said a voice from some- 
where, when the two had accepted the proffered 
accommodation. 

“ Very,” answered Simpson. 

“Too wet to travel last night unless there 
was much need,” pursued the voice. 

“ There was much need,” was the response. 
“ I have brought my friend, Fred Rader, to stay 
with you for a while, and I want you to treat 
him as you would treat me.” 


A PLACE OF REFUGE. 


179 


'‘What is his name?” asked the girl, after 
the manner of a lawyer cross-examining a 
witness. 

A light broke over Simpson’s face. “Oh, 
you have heard ! ” he said. “ I might have 
known. Well now, see here. Raven Wing,” 
getting up and facing the girl, “ this is the man 
the Vigilantes are after, but they are mistaken. 
He is no more Alf Lambert than I am. His 
name is Fred Rader. I knew him when we 
were boys.” 

“All right,” answered the girl, emerging from 
her retired position and stealing a glance at her 
future guest, as she went out of the room for a few 
minutes, doubtless to inform her brother of their 
common mistake, and then proceeded with her 
preparations for breakfast. 

A little later the man came in and the repast 
was served in a rude way, but heartily relished 
by the hungry men who had ridden all night in 
the rain. 

Soon after breakfast Simpson took his leave, 
promising to come again at no distant day, and 
cautioning Fred to keep close to his shelter until 
he was certain he could venture forth with safety. 

“ Keep your eyes and ears open. Raven 
Wing,” he said, significantly. 

“ Trust me for that,” answered the girl heartily, 
her brother adding : 


180 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


Give yourself no uneasiness whatever.” 

So Simpson, making his adieus all around, 
rode off and disappeared in the woods. 

The first few days of Fred Rader’s stay with 
Jerome Black and his sister sufficed to show 
him that they were a fearless pair, willing to 
encounter any peril in the cause of one whom 
they had pledged themselves to defend, but that 
they had little respect for the laws of man, and 
of the laws of God they seemed to know 
nothing. 

Fred remembered Simpson’s caution about 
conciliating these people by humoring their ec- 
centricities ; but his conscience warned him that 
he had no right to secure even his own life at 
the risk of the souls of those under whose pro- 
tection he had placed himself. The Sabbath 
day was to them no more than any other day, as 
he soon gathered from their conversation. The 
first two, however, being rainy, were observed 
by remaining in the cabin. 

The third Sunday which the refugee spent 
under the roof of his new home was one long 
to be remembered. He rose early, but on de- 
scending from the loft where he slept he found 
that the brother and sister had breakfasted 
already, and but for himself the house was 
empty. 


A PLACE OF REFUGE. 


181 


Fred got his breakfast and waited, hoping 
they would soon return. He had made up his 
mind to do good as he had opportunity, and he 
intended to make an effort to persuade these 
two to join with him in regarding at least the 
letter of the command which requires us to keep 
holy the Lord’s day. He hoped, without much 
difficulty, to induce them to abstain from labor 
at least. But the time passed on and the sun 
rose high, and neither Jerome nor his sister made 
an appearance. 

At last, about noon, the brother came in sight 
with his axe on his shoulder. He had no doubt 
been chopping wood since early morning. 

Now you will remember that Fred had not 
long been a Christian; and he had a career lying 
back of his reformation which rose up to con- 
front him every now and then like an evil thing 
from which there was no escape. He knew that 
he was now a changed man in the sight of heaven, 
but when he thought of rebuking or admonish- 
ing others because of their sins, the mountain of 
his own past misdeeds would tower before him 
as if about to fall upon his head. He lost 
sight of the fact that it was not his own 
worthiness, but the righteousness of Christ of 
which he was to tell those who had need of 
righteousness. 

Jerome Black came in with a swinging step, 
16 


182 


STRUGGLING UPWARD, 


and placing his axe in a corner of the cabin sat 
down in a tired way and wiped his forehead. 

Here was this man toiling day after day, and 
cheerfully giving food and lodging to one whom 
he did not know, while he who was lately en- 
gaged in far worse employment than wood- 
chopping on the holy day was now being 
kindly cared for and saved from death at his 
hands. 

Hospitality is enjoined in the Scriptures, and 
might not his errors be overlooked on the score 
of ignorance, and credit given him on the 
books of heaven for his generous kindness to 
the stranger ? 

We often meet with specious arguments some- 
what akin to the above. Newspapers tell us 
every now and then of some heroic miner or 
engineer who has braved death in discharge of 
his duty to his fellow-men ; and though he may 
have denied the Saviour, or never spoke the 
name of God except in blasphemy, they arraign 
the justice of a Deity who should refuse admit- 
tance to such an one into the abode of saints and 
angels. 

Be not deceived by such arguments; they are 
suggested by the father of lies. 

Fred Rader had been carefully taught, and 
he knew such reasoning to be contrary to the 
teaching of God’s word ; that if we offend in 


A PLACE OF REFUGE. 


183 


one point we are guilty of all ; that no praise- 
worthy action of ours can save us from the 
punishment due to our sin; that besides the 
name of Jesus there is no other name under 
heaven given among men whereby we must be 
saved. 

He knew that this man was ignorant of, or 
indifferent to, these things, and that it was his 
duty to speak plainly to him on the subject of 
his soul’s eternal interests. He knew that the 
fact of his great indebtedness to the man made 
the duty all the more imperative ; and yet he 
hesitated. 

Why is it that the tongue, so lamentably 
quick to speak oftentimes when it were far better 
to keep silence, is so very slow to be heard 
when God commands its utterance ? 

Even Moses pleads, Behold, they will not 
believe me, nor hearken unto my voice,” when 
the Lord commands him to go and speak to 
his brethren. And again : 

“ O my Lord, I am not eloquent, neither here- 
tofore nor since thou hast spoken unto thy 
servant : but I am slow of speech, and of a slow 
tongue.” 

^‘And the Lord said unto him. Who hath 
made man’s mouth ? or who maketh the dumb, 
or deaf, or the seeing, or the blind ? have not I, 
the Lord ? Now therefore go, and I will be 


184 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


with thy mouth, and teach thee what thou shalt 
say.” 

Is it any wonder that the Lord was angry 
with him when he still distrusted, and was lack- 
ing in confidence ? for the distrust was distrust 
of God, and the lack of confidence was doubting 
the Most High. 

Fred Rader, like many another, sat silent 
when he ought to have spoken. The hour of 
noon, the only hour of rest which his host al- 
lowed himself on this day which God has sanc- 
tified and set apart as holy, passed away, and 
Fred sat struggling with his convictions. 

At last the Sabbath worker again took up 
his axe and went out, and his guest was left 
alone, self-condemned for having shrunk from 
what he knew to be his duty. 

He thought, with shame and regret, that he 
had as good as denied his principles, and that 
delay had only made his task the harder. 

He tried to read ; but reminders of the duty 
which he had refused to perform seemed to 
rise up from every page, and altogether that 
Sabbath was far from being one of rest and 
refreshment. 

I do not think that Fred’s hesitation was in 
the least caused by fear for his personal safety 
in case he should offend his host. It was rather 


A PLACE OF REFUGE. 


185 


that unreasoning, sinful disinclination to speak 
of the things of God. 

He might have another opportunity — who 
could say ? but as for the one which to-day he 
had failed to improve, it was lost forever ! 

16 * 


CHAPTER XVI. 


LABOR IN THE VINEYARD. 

M onday morning came, dark and rainy, 
and found none of the inmates of the 
cabin on the border of the forest in anywise 
refreshed or strengthened, either spiritually or 
physically, by the Sabbath which was past. Fred 
had lost much of its blessing by neglecting his 
duty: Jerome had spent the day in labor, and 
Raven Wing in roaming over the hills. 

There are some in this age of so-called “ ad- 
vanced thinking” who would say that the girl 
' did no wrong in spending the day in innocent 
recreation. 

There are plans made and executed, for mak- 
ing it a kind of gala day for the working classes. 
The day is largely desecrated as a pleasure day 
by this and other classes, and this desecration is 
defended by some who seem to be good people. 
But let us beware. 

We must not lose sight of the fact that God not 
only rested, but that he sanctified the Sabbath, 
and set it apart for holy uses. 

( 186 ) 


LABOR IN THE VINE YARD. 


187 


It is not enough that we abstain from our 
ordinary labor on the Lord’s day. We have no 
warrant for supposing that its obligations have 
been set aside. 

Our Saviour’s acts on the Sabbath, and his 
words : “ The Sabbath was made for man and 
not man for the Sabbath,” have often been 
brought forward as license for ignoring the 
sacred character of the day ; but if those who 
catch so eagerly at these things were true fol- 
lowers of our one perfect pattern, they would 
see and acknowledge that the works of necessity 
and mercy which he performed, and for the 
condemnation of which he rebuked the Pharisees, 
cannot be truthfully urged as license for making 
the day one of mere pleasure-seeking. 

There is much sounding talk of ” good to the 
neighbor,” in this age of active benevolence, and 
far be it from me to condemn philanthropy, one 
of the duties enjoined and practised by our 
Master himself; but let us see to it that the 
“good” we offer is real good. And let us not 
forget that our duty to our fellow-men cannot 
conflict with the duty which we owe to God — 
the duty of obeying his commandments. 

An English artist has given us two pictures, 
— “ Sunday in a Gin Shop,” and “ Sunday in a 
Picture Gallery,” which, together with comments 
that have been written on them, afford a good 


188 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


illustration of the tendency of the age to refined 
Sabbath-breaking, if I may so call it. 

It is often urged that whatever is right and 
proper to be done on any day is fit for the Sab- 
bath. Let us beware of such ideas. If God 
had thought so he would not have set apart one 
day in seven. Those who advocate such doc- 
trine are grading the way gently, unknown 
perhaps to many who urge them, to the abol- 
ishment of the blessed institution which our wise 
and benevolent Father has set up and sanc- 
tified, and which no nation and no individual 
can violate and prosper. 

Why should we think ourselves wiser than 
God? Why should we set up the flickering 
lamps of our reason, as better lights than the 
Sun of his omniscience ? 

Raven Wing had come home late in the even- 
ing with her rifle on her shoulder and half a 
dozen squirrels hanging to her belt. As for 
Fred, he had retired to his loft with the burden 
of duty unperformed weighing down his spirit. 

He felt that he had been plainly admonished : 
‘‘Son, go work to-day in my vineyard,” and 
that he had wickedly and undutifully answered, 
“ I will not.” 

Afterward, with the darkness of night resting 
over the earth, and the memory of his dangers and 


LABOR IN THE VINEYARD. 


189 


providential escapes rushing like a flood upon 
him, he wondered sadly whether he should be 
given another opportunity to do that which he 
had neglected ; whether he might yet be able to 
do as that other of whom it is said that he re- 
fused at first, but afterward repented and went. 

When he descended to the living room he 
found a smoking breakfast awaiting him. What- 
ever Raven Wing might have learned among 
the Indians she had certainly acquired the culi- 
nary art in a higher school. Her snowy bread 
and golden butter were always of the best, and 
this morning a dish of fried squirrel was sending 
forth a most savory odor mingled with the 
aroma of the coffee. 

Fred’s appetite was not at its best in these 
days, but there was still another reason for 
his declining to partake of the dish which the 
young hostess evidently regarded as the pride 
of her board. She pressed it upon him, and, 
when he still refused, she said, with a very genu- 
ine pout, 

“ You told me once that you were particularly 
fond of fried squirrel. Those were your very 
words ! ’’ 

Tears of disappointment and anger at her 
guest’s contrariness — for such she deemed it — 
rose to her eyes. 


190 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


But, Raven,” he said, I can’t enjoy these 
because you broke the Sabbath in killing them. 
That was wrong. Sunday is not the day for 
working or hunting, you know.” 

“ No, I didn’t know ! ” she answered, with 
flashing eyes. ** How should I know anything 
about it ? ” 

Was it possible that this girl had never heard 
of the obligations of the Sabbath ? He was more 
guilty than he had thought, for he had learned 
from the conversation of the brother and sister 
that they looked upon it in the same light as 
other days, and he had taken no pains to inform 
or enlighten them. Now the girl’s question 
came to him like an accusing messenger. 

He was glad that Jerome had already break- 
fasted and gone out ; he could speak more freely 
in his absence. 

He told his companion how the Lord had 
rested on the seventh day from the work of 
creation, and had blessed and sanctified it and 
commanded its observance. And then he told 
the story of the wonderful life and death of him 
who rose from the dead on the first day, and 
became the first-fruits of them that slept. 

He quite forgot himself in his theme as he 
had heard it again and again from his mother’s 
lips. And oh, the shame and self-condemnation 
with which he heard the accusing question, 


LABOR IN THE VINEYARD. 


191 


** Why did you not tell me before ? ” 

He had not expected so docile a pupil in the 
fearless forest child. Ah, how often in the fear 
of rejection do we keep back the truth from 
those who would be glad to receive it ! 

‘‘ Did you learn that from the book you read? * 
she questioned further. “ If I could read, I 
might know something too. I have a book of 
my own,” she continued in a bitter tone, seeming 
to mean that he had kept his all to himself, which 
had indeed been the case. 

“ I will be glad to teach you to read,” an- 
swered Fred humbly, “ and I will read my book 
to you, if you wish.” 

He had accepted the hospitality and kind- 
ness of these people, but what had he done for 
them in all the time that he had been under their 
roof? This rude child, who was growing to 
regard him as a brother, evidently felt that she 
had a grievance against him, and was it not 
indeed so ? How would Jerome be pleased ? 

“ Cannot your brother read ? ” he asked. 

“ Yes, he could if he would,” answered the 
sister, “ but I believe he hates books. I would 
like to learn, though. When will you show me 
how? ” 

She seemed to think that a few general direc- 
tions would be all that was needed; and her 
first lesson proved rather discouraging. How- 


192 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


ever, she announced her intention of fighting it 
out/’ as if she considered her ignorance in the 
light of a wild beast that must be vanquished, 
though the combat were long and hard. 

She had a lesson in the morning, and another 
in the evening, and then Fred turned over the 
leaves of the book from which he was teaching 
her to select a portion for the evening reading, 
which he had resolved to begin that night. 

He felt very uncertain as to how Jerome 
would regard the liberty, but he felt that the 
word of God was powerful, far more powerful 
than any words which man might speak. 

So he said: “With your leave I will read 
aloud a chapter or two.” As no dissenting voice 
was heard, he searched for a suitable place. He 
hesitated. What portion shoufd he select? 

It was as if he was directed to the nineteenth 
Psalm. He commenced reading mechanically, 
but when his voice rose up on the passages: 
“ The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the 
soul : the testimony of the Lord is sure, making 
wise the simple. The statutes of the Lord are 
right, rejoicing the heart : the commandment of 
the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes ; ” the 
reader felt that the Author of the words was 
speaking to him as well as to his hearers, and 
that he could leave the Lord’s seed without a 
fear that it would not grow. 


LAB on IN THE VINEYARD. 


193 


When he came to the last verse, that compre- 
hensive prayer of the Psalmist, he had forgotten 
the doubts with which he had entered upon this 
duty, forgotten the self-consciousness which had 
made him begin, filled with thoughts of himself 
and the probable effect of his action in this 
matter. 

His thoughts and feelings had risen to a 
higher plane, and when the Psalm was ended, 
he had no thought of either himself or the others, 
except the thought that all were in the presence 
of God ; and he said solemnly : 

Let us pray ! ” 

He knelt down. He did not know or think 
whether the others knelt or not. One did ; the 
other sat looking into the fire with his pipe 
between his lips. But “ the word of God is 
quick, and powerful ... a discerner of the 
thoughts and intents of the heart.” 

I have said that Raven Wing was discouraged 
at the greatness of the task of learning to read ; 
but she did not give way to her discouragement. 
She rather redoubled her efforts with every new 
obstacle to be met. 

If my young readers, to whom the ministra- 
tions of God’s house. Sabbath school and day 
school are common things and sometimes re- 
garded as tiresome, could witness the avidity 
17 N 


194 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


with which those long debarred from spiritual 
and intellectual privileges often accept truth 
when it is offered to them, they would prize 
their blessings more highly, and would also 
rejoice in aiding to spread the light in regions 
which lie in darkness. 

Jerome Black had always treated Fred with a 
rough kindness, and had made him feel that he 
was heartily welcome to his hospitality; but 
there was a certain reserve about him, which 
was always maintained in his manner toward his 
guest, and in some degree toward his sister also. 
He never talked very freely to any one except 
his dogs, and this fact again struck the visitor 
as contradictory to his fine face and the genuine 
intelligence which now and then gleamed out of 
his conversation. 

The sister had said that her brother could 
read, but Fred had never seen a book in the 
house, and Jerome seemed with scrupulous care- 
fulness to burn every scrap of newspaper that 
found its way into the cabin. 

Yet, while he took no part, ostensibly, in the 
lessons and devotional exercises morning and 
evening, he never absented himself, as Fred 
had feared he might do, and the laborer hoped 
and prayed that the lamp of God’s truth might 
illumine his soul in the Master’s own good time. 


LABOR IN THE VINEYARD. 


195 


So the days passed by, and there was no more 
Sunday hunting on the part of Raven Wing. 
Jerome frequently took his gun or his axe and 
went out as before ; but on going to the spring 
on one of these occasions, after he had been out 
for some time, Fred saw him sitting on a log 
with his elbows resting on his knees, and his 
chin in his hands, as if in deep study, while his 
axe lay beside him. 

Another time Raven Wing said : 

“ I do believe ’Rome is only pretending to 
chop wood on Sunday. I haven’t heard his axe 
since he went out.” 

On the evening of the same day Fred was 
reading from the prophet Ezekiel of the threat- 
enings of the Lord against the house of Israel 
for their idolatry. 

" Or ^ I send a pestilence into that land, and 
pour out my fury upon it in blood, to cut off 
from it man and beast: though Noah, Daniel 
and Job were in it, as I live, saith the Lord God, 
they shall deliver neither son nor daughter ; 
they shall but deliver their own souls by their 
righteousness.” 

“ Who were Noah, Daniel and Job ? ” asked 
Raven Wing, with the quick curiosity of a learner. 

So Fred told her the story of each, in the 
order in which they were mentioned ; and the 
girl listened intently. The other hearer was 


196 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


listening too, though he gave no sign. He had 
heard the stories before, but the narratives of the 
Bible have a power to interest— a perpetual 
freshness which no others possess. 

What other book in all the world has been 
able so to bind the attention of unwilling hear- 
ers? has been able to transform and mould anew 
the hearts and lives of those who are ruled by 
its precepts ? ■ 

It was not long before Raven Wing was famil- 
iar with many portions of the holy Book, and 
could also read in easy words herself Yet she 
made no further reference to her own book, and 
took her lessons from Fred’s as at the begin- 
ning. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE WORK OF FALSE TEACHERS. 

“Ye said also, Behold, what a weariness is it ! and ye have 
Snuffed at it, saith the Lord of hosts.” 

R aven wing proved as valuable a scout 
as Simpson Harris had represented her. 
She went on an investigating tour every now and 
then, returning with items of information that 
could not but prove interesting to Fred Rader, 
thus shut away from all other communication 
with the outside world. He asked his messenger 
to bring him a newspaper several times, but she 
always said she forgot it. 

She went to Goldburgh and saw the baby 
occasionally, reporting on her return with whom 
he was, how he looked, how he was dressed, 
and what he was doing. But she always brought 
the unwelcome information that Alf Lambert 
had not yet been captured. 

Poor Raven Wing ! She had learned many 
passages from God’s word, and showed a willing- 
ness to accept its teaching ; but she had grown 
17 * ( 197 ) 


198 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


up SO grossly ignorant that her ideas as yet 
were often darkly confused. She had given up 
Sabbath work, and really seemed to be trying 
to observe the day properly, but she had no 
right conception of him who has said, Ye shall 
be holy : for I the Lord your God am holy.” 

A wiser teacher than Fred might have led her 
more directly to the true source of all good, the 
Saviour of sinners. 

As yet the girl’s reformation was but the lop- 
ping off of the branches ; the giving up of some 
sinful habits, while the heart remained unre- 
generate. Jesus has said : “ The tree is known 
by its fruit.” 

Thus while Raven Wing was earnestly trying 
to overcome her ignorance and to do as she 
was taught, she was yet harboring deceit in her 
heart. The coming of Fred to the lonely home 
had opened a new life for her, compared with 
which the old seemed too monotonous and 
dreary to be borne. 

She had never realized how silent and unsocial 
her real brother was before this new one came, 
who paid her for all her labor for him in cheer- 
ful appreciation of her efforts on his behalf ; who 
taught her so kindly, and entertained her with 
stories of life in a part of the world of which 
she had never heard before. 

She did not want to go back to the old, dull 


THE WORK OF FALSE TEACHERS. 109 

life before he came, so she brought back, when- 
ever she returned home, the intelligence that 
the murderer had not yet been taken, and this 
too without having made any inquiries concern- 
ing the matter. 

So the days passed by and Fred remained in 
hiding, when he might have gone fearlessly 
wherever he wished. The real offender had 
been captured and duly identified, and the re- 
semblance between the two men was found to 
rest almost wholly upon the fact that both were 
slender and considerably above medium height. 

Such is the groundless evidence upon which 
ungoverned passion is ready to inflict sum- 
niary punishment. Alas for that country or 
section where unreasoning impulse takes the 
place of cool, unbiased judgment; where men 
(and women, too, with shame be it said) raise 
their voices unsparingly against the barely sus- 
pected to-day, and pet and lionize the well-known 
bandit and desperado to-morrow ! 

The delay was trying Fred’s patience sorely. 
He was glad to do what he might for the two 
who so kindly harbored him ; but yet he 
grudged every day, yes, every hour, which he 
lost in hiding from the lawless men who had 
been ready to put him to death for another’s 
crime. 


200 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


How much time had elapsed since the baby 
had been taken out of his charge! And the 
longer the effort was postponed, the harder it 
would be, he thought, to establish his lawful 
claim to the child. 

One day, on her return from Goldburgh, 
Raven Wing told him that she had seen “ the 
little fellow riding on a little Indian pony,” with 
the fine gentleman who always stayed at the 
Grand Hotel. “ He sat up in his little saddle 
like a man ! ” she said, enthusiastically ; but her 
information did not seem to please her listener, 
as she had evidently expected that it would. 

He sat in a listless way, resting his head on 
his hand, and appeared to be in a deep study. 

She watched him with her keen eyes for a 
little while, a dark expression coming over her 
face. 

“ He is doing very well ! ” she said, impatiently, 
after a little. “I don’t see why you should 
worry about him. He could not be better taken 
care of. He has plenty of people to look after 
him and everything he wants!” 

But Fred did not reply. 

‘‘ He doesn’t need you half as much as I do ! ” 
she burst out at length, her dark, flashing eyes 
brighter for their tears. 

Fred looked up in surprise. 


THE WORK OF FALSE TEACHERS. 201 

“ Oh, I don’t intend to forsake you,” he said, 
making an effort to speak comfortingly. You 
have been too kind ; you have proved too good 
a little sister to me in my trouble to allow me to 
desert you when the danger shall be past. But 
the baby needs me too. I have no doubt that 
he is well fed and clothed, and has plenty to 
amuse him; but it hurts me to think of his 
growing up with those people. They have no 
regard for what is right, and if he is left in their 
hands, I doubt not he will turn out a gambler, 
like the fine gentleman with whom you see him 
so often. 

“ That man is utterly bad, in spite of his good 
looks and fine clothes. Don’t you think it would 
be a dreadful thing for that little child to grow 
up to break the Sabbath, play cards, swear and 
lie?” 

‘*Oh, yes,” answered the girl, but not very 
heartily. Then she was silent, and Fred seemed 
again lost in thought. 

** It is no harm to tell a lie for good,” she said 
presently. She did not make her statement 
interrogatively, but in a dogmatic way, which 
seemed to challenge contradiction. The hard 
look deepened on her face, and her features 
were pale as with repressed emotion. 

Fred answered, very softly : 

** The Bible says : ‘ Lie not one to another. . . • 


202 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


Speak every man truth with his neighbor ; ’ and, 
‘All liars shall have their part in the lake which 
burneth with fire and brimstone.’ ” 

If Raven Wing had sometimes puzzled Fred 
with her quick, passionate ways, he was com- 
pletely astonished now, as with one bound she 
sprang out of the room and was gone. 

Hour after hour passed and yet she did not 
return. The dinner hour approached, and lay- 
ing aside the basket-weaving, with which he had 
been employed, he prepared the meal with what, 
skill he was master of. 

At noon Jerome came in from his work. He 
made no allusion to his sister’s absence for some 
time. At last, when the meal was concluded, 
he asked, indifferently : “ What started Raven 
racing up the mountain as if the Sioux were 
after her ? ” 

Fred hesitated but a moment. 

“ We were having a little discussion about the 
sin of lying,” he said, “and I gave her some 
texts on the subject which must have excited 
her, I think.” 

The brother nodded, but said nothing. How- 
ever, he still sat in the cabin beyond the hour 
of nooning, and seemed constantly about to say 
something and then to repress himself He 
shifted his position uneasily, crossing his right 
leg over his left, and then reversing the posture. 


THE WORK OF FALSE TEACHERS. 203 


His dogs, which were nearly always in the 
house when he was there, fawned about him un- 
noticed. He often caressed and played with 
them during the Scripture readings, and Fred 
thought sometimes that he sought thus to show 
his contempt, or at least his indifference, to the 
words which were being read. But to-day he 
paid no attention to the efforts of his canine 
friends to attract his notice, and at last, to Fred’s 
surprise, he put them both out and ordered them 
away to their kennel. It was the first time his 
host had done so since the morning of his own 
arrival. 

“ I want to ask you,” he said directly, in a 
way that was entirely foreign to his usual man- 
ner, “ if you accept everything in the Bible as 
true and binding.” 

“ I certainly do, sir,” answered Fred, unhesi- 
tatingly. “ I accept it all as true, and all as bind- 
ing, except the observances which were sym- 
bolical of Christ’s sacrifice, and which are of 
course done away by his one perfect sacrifice. 
There are a great many things that I don’t un- 
derstand, but I think it is a dangerous thing to 
reject any part of God’s word.” 

Something seemed to tell him that this man 
was more familiar with the Bible than himself, 
and he expected a well-planned attack, in which 
skillful sophistry should appear in the garments 


204 STRUGGLING UPWARD. 

of truth. But his questioner was silent for a 
moment. He walked to the door and looked 
out, as if he were afraid of a listener. 

“There is something about the book that 
makes it unlike all others,” he admitted, on re- 
suming his chair. “You would never guess, I 
suppose, that I am a minister’s son, and that I 
graduated at an Eastern college with a view 
4:0 my studying for and entering the same pro- 
fession. You would never guess that I even 
took part of my theological course — you need 
not answer. I can read your reply in your coun- 
tenance. I never intended to tell my story to 
any one,” he went on, “ but my conscience gives 
me no peace. It is all because of those Bible 
readings. I would avoid hearing them if I could. 
The words come to me as from Mt. Sinai, or the 
very heavens themselves. I’ll tell you how I 
came to be where I am and what I arh. I was 
brought up carefully, and taught the right way 
by both example and precept, but while in col- 
lege I read a deal of stuff which I had better 
have left alone. 

“ The Sabbath question, ancj other questions 
of the same kind, were agitated about that time 
in the so-called liberal spirit that is always ready 
to grant a hearing to and admit the honesty and 
sincerity of cavils against all good. I listened 
to the specious arguments of those who talked 


THE WORK OF FALSE TEACHERS. 205 


wilily of the Sabbath as being intended as a day 
of rest and recreation ; of the treadmill life of the 
working classes, and the inhumanity of requiring 
or expecting them to spend the day in Sabbath 
school and church; of the pure and innocent 
pleasures which no man should wish to debar 
them from on this their one day of freedom from 
the shackles of labor. There was much of this 
apparent philanthropy that came gushing as 
from hearts overflowing with love to the race, 
seasoned and spiced with an occasional spiteful 
fling at the church and its efforts. 

“ It is very easy for the young and ignorant 
to imbibe the views of such men, because the 
natural inclinations of the heart are in their favor. 
There were also pleas for the children — poor in- 
nocents, whom puritanical parents and friends 
curbed and restrained from doing just as they 
chose on the Sabbath ; and I swallowed it all, 
until my ‘ liberality ’ grew apace and I began to 
think that such parents and teachers were living 
examples of fanatical cruelty and ignorance. 

Of course, having espoused such views, I was 
not long in carrying them out in my life. I was 
called in question for some of my loose conduct, 
and so flung aside all restraint and took my 
stand boldly on the Miberal’ platform. My 
father’s godly life and labors, my mother’s les- 
sons and prayers, were set aside as well meaning 
18 


206 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


but mistaken things, and I hastened to drink my 
fill of the stream that was so much sweeter to 
my carnal taste than the ‘ still waters ’ which I 
had not learned to love — I say I espoused these 
views. My inclinations accepted them as incon- 
trovertible, but my judgment was unable to en- 
dorse them, and protested every now and then 
against the lie which I was trying to believe. I 
am no Christian, but I see it all now; I have 
seen it for years, though I have shut my eyes 
against the light. 

“ With myself and the companions I chose, 
Sunday excursions and other diversions became 
the order of the day. No one seemed to reflect 
that the laborers on the steamers and trains, 
and the wearied-out mothers and tired, cross 
children that returned, were startling contradic- 
tions of the ‘ rest and recreation ’ theory. There 
was often drunkenness and ruffianism, too, but 
these seemed to be quietly accepted as a part of 
the enjoyment. 

I could not feel quite free from the pricks 
of conscience; I had been brought up so dif- 
ferently ; but I salved over my wounds with the 
frequent sight of church members among the 
Sabbath-breakers, and went on. 

“ In spite of the good company which I tried 
to believe I was in, there was one text which 
my father taught to me before I was able to read. 


THE WORK OF FALSE TEACHERS. 207 

which I have never been able to forget, which 
came to me then, and has come to me, I believe, 
with every Sabbath I have violated : 

“ ‘ If thou turn away thy foot from the Sab- 
bath, from doing thy pleasure on my holy day ; 
and call the Sabbath a delight, the holy of the 
Lord, honorable ; and shalt honor him, not doing 
thine own ways, nor hnding thine own pleasure, 
nor speaking thine own words : then shalt thou 
dehght thyself in the Lord; and I will cause 
thee to ride upon the high places of the earth, 
and feed thee with the heritage of Jacob thy 
father : for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken 
it! 

I did not then believe, nor do I now, that 
this passage was intended only for the Jews; 
and I knew why I had not been made to ride 
upon the high places ; why I had not delighted 
in the Lord. I knew that religion had proved 
distasteful to me because my heart was not 
right. 

“ The labors of those who have tried so earn- 
estly to pervert the Saviour’s words to their own 
gross and sensual ideas failed really to convince 
me. I knew, and I could not forget, that his 
example was all that the most careful observer 
of the Sabbath could desire for a model ; that 
the works of healing and common humanity 
which he performed, and those of necessity 


208 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


which he sanctioned, were as far removed from 
the license claimed for the day as the heavens 
are removed from the earth. 

“Again, I had sense enough to know that a 
certain amount of discipline is necessary not 
only to the welfare but to the happiness of 
human beings, and that true pleasure does not 
consist in the unrestricted indulgence of our 
natural desires, and I knew that the men who 
talked most loudly about the tyranny and cruelty 
of restraint in the matter of Sabbath observance 
were as well aware of the fact as I. 

“ Yet, strange as it seems, I went on, and from 
being a liberalist, I had not far to go to infidel- 
ity. I attended infidel lectures, read infidel 
books, and sneered with the rest at all things 
holy, because, forsooth, there were some things 
which I could not understand, and called all 
Christians hypocrites because some church mem- 
bers were not the shining lights which they 
should have been. 

“ I found what was called great liberality here 
also, but it was a liberality which turned all one 
way. It was often said that ‘ a man had a right 
to his sincere opinion.’ The wiser of them 
knew that this was untrue. No man has a right 
to believe and propagate a lie if the truth is 
within his reach. 

“ You will not need to be told the steps by 


THE WORK OF FALSE TEACHERS. 209 

which I descended from the position which I 
once occupied to that in which you find me to- 
day. My parents were long since laid ,to rest, 
and, bringing my little sister out here, I have 
lived as if there were no God, and have tried to 
believe the lie, guarding against everything that 
could shake my fancied security. 

*‘And what a security ! I would not, were it 
mine, exchange the peace and j*oy in which my 
father and mother died, for all that free thinkers 
can offer multiplied a thousand-fold ! ” 

He ended abruptly and went out, leaving 
Fred in a stupor of surprise. 

The case of Jerome Black is not an isolated 
one. The grade by which he descended is a 
most easy and natural one. The Sabbath is of 
greater importance than the masses of the people 
ever imagine. Were its observance abolished, 
the evil results would soon be felt by those who 
are laboring most assiduously for its destruction. 
The man, the community, the nation that ignores 
or tramples upon the laws of God can only de- 
scend lower unless arrested by divine grace and 
brought to repentance and back into the right 
way. 

18* O 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


SUCCESS AND FAILURE. 

“ But let patience have her perfect work.” 

I T was late in the afternoo‘n when Raven Wing 
returned. She looked tired and dejected, 
and kept her eyes cast down until she made the 
discovery that the cabin was deserted. 

Then she began preparation for supper, as if 
nothing unusual had occurred. 

Fred had followed Jerome when he went back 
to his work, and the two had spent the greater 
part of the afternoon in conversation. As they 
came in together, Raven Wing glanced at them 
furtively, and noticed that her brother’s face was 
even more grave than usual, and that Fred’s 
wore an earnest, pre-occupied look. 

The girl pouted a little that no reference was 
made to her absence, but was somewhat pacified 
by her guest’s praise of some of her tea-table 
dainties. 

The three were unusually silent during the 
evening that followed. Instead of the usual 
( 210 ) 


SUCCESS AND FAILURE. 


211 


lively chat that made the otherwise unwelcome 
task of washing the tea things pass so quickly to 
the young housekeeper, the owls were distinctly 
heard hooting in the near forest, and the crickets 
had it all to themselves in the cabin. 

But after the evening work was done. Raven 
Wing had her regular lesson, and then Fred read 
the parable of the prodigal son, and other por- 
tions of the holy Book. 

Jerome retired soon after the exercises were 
over, and his sister and Fred sat looking into 
the glowing bed of coals as if each was reading 
there something of absorbing interest. Fred 
was thinking of the story which he had heard, 
and comparing it with his own. 

The two were alike a'nd yet different. They 
were both records of wandering from the right 
path. The one had abandoned himself to evil ; 
the other had prided himself on his morality 
and philanthropy, but had insulted and defied 
his Maker. Would he also come back to 
the good way, since he knew that way so per- 
fectly ? 

As Fred was about to go to his room. Raven 
Wing turned suddenly, and, jerking out the 
words as if with a great effort, exclaimed : 

‘‘They have caught Alf Lambert and are 
trying him over at Cedar Hill Court-House.” 

Her voice had a hoarse, unnatural tone, and 


212 STRUGGLING UPWARD. 

the distress on her young face was pitiful to see, 
as she started to hurry out of the room. 

“Wait a minute, please,” Fred said kindly 
but firmly ; “ I want to thank you for finding it 
out—” 

“ I have known it this long while,” she inter- 
rupted with an attempt at a defiant air ; but her 
voice broke on the words. 

“ Then I want to thank you for making up 
your mind to tell me,” he answered. 

“I didn’t make up my mind: I was just 
obliged to do it ! ” she burst out. 

“Ah, well,” said Fred indulgently, laying his 
hand on her tangled black hair, “ then I want to 
ask you, should I succeed in getting the baby 
if I may bring him here for a while, and if you 
will help me to take care of him.” 

He saw her face brighten a little, but she only 
nodded her head ; she seemed afraid to trust her 
voice. 

The next day found Fred Rader at Goldburgh. 
He thought, as he made his way fearlessly along 
the streets at noonday, of the time he was 
there last ; of the silent midnight march ; of the 
masked guard which had attended him ; of the 
one unhidden familiar face of which he had 
caught one glimpse as he was hurried on board 
the train. He longed for another glance at that 


SUCCESS AND FAILURE. 


213 


face, but he felt that there was no time to be lost. 
And yet, perhaps it would be his best plan to see 
Grant Lucas before taking any steps toward the 
recovery of the child. 

He considered for a moment, and then turned 
his feet in the direction of Thunder Gap, and in 
due time was welcomed by his old friends with 
a heartiness which was unmistakably genuine. 

After dinner Fred and Grant strolled off to- 
gether, and the steps of both involuntarily turned 
toward the little grave in the edge of the wood 
where the wild flowers bloomed and the wild 
birds sang. 

Fred could not help remembering sadly 
Grant’s last words to him in their former inter- 
view at this spot : 

“ I will believe in Heaven’s mercy toward me 
when my dead come back to my arms.” 

The two men sat down near the stone, and, 
though neither spoke of the subject of the pre- 
vious conversation, the thoughts of both were 
busy. 

Then they talked of Fred’s midnight escape 
from the Vigilantes, and he related his last ad- 
venture, and ended by announcing his determi- 
nation to devote himself now to the work of 
getting possession of the baby, and asked his 
friend what course he would advise. 

Grant Lucas evidently did not share the en- 


214 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


thusiasm and hopefulness of Fred, and his long 
delay in replying was rather trying to the pa^ 
tience of the latter, who, having been hindered 
so long, was anxious to begin his work at once. 

Well,” Grant answered at length, “ if you 
can prove by a competent witness that Mrs. 
Gills gave the child to you, I suppose all that 
will be necessary will be to produce said witness 
or his or her affidavit to the fact. Otherwise I 
fail to see how you can succeed. Was any one 
present ? ” 

Fred had thought this all over, but he had 
hoped there might be some other way. There 
was one witness to the dying mother’s legacy — 
the nurse who had taken care of her and had 
closed her eyes at the last, but who and where 
was this young woman ? 

He was in despair, almost, when he reflected 
how long the impressible little one had been in 
possession of the people who now claimed him, 
and was impatient of further delay. 

“ I have no idea where to look for this witness. 
I did not hear her name and I might advertise 
for years without avail. I would take the child 
by force if I had an opportunity. It would be 
doing a good thing : they have no right to him ! ” 
he said warmly. 

“ Right or wrong, you would only get your^ 
self into fresh trouble,” answered Grant quietly. 


SUCCESS AND FAILURE. 


216 


It seemed to Fred that his friend was lacking 
in interest in the matter, and a feeling of disap- 
pointment and something very like resentment, 
took possession of him. 

But then came the thought of the little sleeper 
near them, and of that other one who also rested 
in a nameless grave, and his feelings softened. 

So far as means go, or any kind of legitimate 
help, rely on my assistance,” spoke Grant, as if 
reading his companion’s thoughts. I have 
taken care of the money you left with me, 
and you are also welcome to draw on mine if 
you need it, but don’t do anything irregular, if 
you can help it, Fred.” 

“ I ought not to require warning against such 
a course,” answered Fred humbly. “ Many 
thanks for your advice and offers of help. But 
I am wasting your time as well as my own. I’ll 
advertise for the young woman who nursed Mrs. 
Gills, and offer a reward. In the meantime I 
must see the child. I feel as if I could not wait 
another day ! ” 

A moment later he was sorry he had spoken 
so. Here by his side was one who had been 
compelled to wait not only days but months and 
years. 

The two friends parted at the little grave. 
Many and great changes took place before they 
met again. 


216 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


Fred’s desire to see the child was soon grati- 
fied. He went directly to the Grand Hotel, and 
in the evening he saw Mrs. Pope descending the 
steps, holding the little fellow’s hand in hers, 
and listening to his childish talk with seeming 
interest. 

“And I struck him with my riding whip,” he 
heard the child say. 

“And did he then stand out of your way ? ” 
she asked, laughing. 

The childish face grew grave : 

“ No,” he said, “ I hurted his face and made 
it bleed, and then I was sorry. Nurse told me 
it was wrong to strike him, and it hurted me 
too, when I saw the blood, and I gave him 
my — 

Fred did not understand from the child’s con- 
fession what it was that he had given to make 
amends for his fault; but Mrs. Pope was evidently 
much displeased. 

“Then you may stay at home, Victor. You 
were a very naughty boy to give your beautiful, 
gold-mounted whip to a dirty little beggar boy,” 
she said severely. 

The child clung to her rich dress, but she 
pulled it loose from his hand. 

“You shall not go : you are a very naughty 
boy,” she repeated, and pushing him aside petu- 
lantly, she entered the carriage and was driven 


SUCCESS AND FAILURE. 


217 


away, leaving the little fellow standing on the 
pavement crying bitterly. 

There seemed to be no one near, and Fred 
approached. 

‘‘ Poor baby ! ” he said tenderly. 

The child stopped crying and looked at him 
curiously. It was now several months since the 
two had met, and Fred knew that his appearance 
was greatly changed; yet his voice and his 
words seemed to strike a half-forgotten chord in 
the little one’s memory. 

Poor baby ! ” he repeated. 

“ My name’s Victo’,” said the boy in his child- 
ish way ; but he allowed his former protector to 
take him upon his knee, and listened in an eager 
way to a story which he used to delight to hear 
when he was the baby of the camp. 

The little birds quarreled, and the biggest 
little bird—” Fred stopped and looked at 
the listener. He lifted his blue eyes and 
waited. 

What did the biggest little bird do ? ” asked 
Fred. 

“ You tell,” said the child. 

“ No, you tell,” answered Fred, smiling. “ The 
little birds quarreled, and the biggest little 
bird—” 

There was a moment’s pause in the narrative, 
and then — ‘‘ Pushed the little baby bird out of 
19 


218 STRUGGLING UPWARD, 

the nest ! ” supplemented the child, clapping his 
hands. 

“ I know ’at story ! ” he said triumphantly. 

“ Who told you ? ” pursued Fred. 

«W’y — w’y — nurse, I dess it was,” ♦he said 
after a moment. 

“Wasn’t it Fred? ” 

The child gave a little start. 

“ F’ed ! ” he exclaimed, repeating the name in 
his babyish fashion, “ w’ere is F’ed ? ” 

“ Would you like to see Fred ? ” 

“ You ain’t F’ed,” he said in a confused way. 
“ I’d like to see F’ed better than to ride on my 
pony ! ” he added earnestly. 

“ Well, Fred will come to see you soon,” was 
answered, as the young man put the child down 
and went up to his room. 

Later in the evening, when he made his ap- 
pearance, the razor had restored to his face its 
old appearance, and the child recognized him at 
once. Sliding down from Mr. Chickham’s knee, 
he was making his way to the side of his foster^ 
father. But Mrs. Pope had recognized him also. 

“Victor, Victor,” she called out sharply, 
“ come here ! ” 

The little fellow stopped half way and looked 
in a pleading manner at Fred. 

“ Come here when your mamma calls you,” 
said Mr. Pope, stamping his foot. 


SUCCESS AND FAILURE. 


219 


But Fred had held out his hands, and with a 
bound the child sprang into his arms. In that 
moment it was hard to indorse Grant Lucas* 
advice. His inclinations urged him to carry the 
boy away without a word ; but reason asserted 
herself. 

Mrs. Pope,” he began, courteously, advancing 
to where the lady sat, pale with anger, please 
give me back my little boy. I assure you his 
mother gave him to me when he was less than 
a year old. He has slept in a little bed near 
mine for many months. You will know that I 
must be attached to him, for you have not known 
him half so long as I.” 

The woman’s hard features seemed to soften 
a little at this appeal. She did not speak for a 
moment, and then she said coldly : 

“ Can you prove your right to him ? Can you 
prove that his mother gave him to you ? ” 

** I hope to be able to do so, if you will not 
believe me without proof,” he answered. 

‘‘ Come here, Victor,” she said more gently, as 
the child still clung to Fred’s neck. 

Fred loosened the little arms and put him 
down on the floor. He went to her slowly, and 
bursting into tears, hid his face in her lap. 

"‘Ah, Victor, Victor,” she said chidingly, “you 
must not be a baby ; and you must not cry over 
my new corn-colored silk, or it will not be fit to 
dance in to-night ! ” 


220 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


Fred, unable to trust himself longer, had 
turned on his heel and was gone. 

“ You must not make friends with every rough 
that comes in,” continued Mrs. Pope, in a more 
severe tone. 

“ ’Taint rough, it’s F’ed ! ” answered the little 
fellow stoutly, dashing away his tears. “ I want 
F’ed to stay here ! ” he continued in a voice that 
was almost a scream. 

“ Stop your noise I ” Mrs. Pope exclaimed, 
seizing him by the arm and shaking him vio- 
lently, while Mr. Pope laughed. 

The child’s cries became louder, and his nurse 
came in and carried him struggling and scream- 
ing from the room, Mr. Chickham meanwhile 
calling out : 

‘‘ Pull her hair, Victor ! Pull her hair,” and one 
or two others laughing heartily. 

Such was the atmosphere in which this little 
one was developing. Is it any wonder that the 
failure which he had encountered, and the con- 
sequent delay in accomplishing his purpose, 
made it necessary for Fred to pray earnestly 
for the grace of patience ? 


CHAPTER XIX. 


WEIGHED IN THE BALANCE. 


He that walketh uprightly walketh surely ; but he that 
perverteth his ways shall be known.” 



RED ERIC RADER’S next step was to 


-L insert an advertisement in the Goldburgh 
Intelligencer^ with a view to finding the one per- 
son who could testify that Mrs. Gills had on 
her death-bed given her little child to him. 

This done, he went to a fine establishment 
just opposite the Grand Hotel. The cost of 
boarding at these palace homes was enormous, 
and Fred had no thought of spending his sav- 
ings in idle luxury. He hoped to obtain work 
which would enable him to be near the little 
child, whom he knew to be surrounded with so 
many evil influences that he almost shuddered 
at the thought of their effect upon him. 

He found the proprietor of the Goldburgh 
House visiting his stables, and asked for em- 
ployment without loss of time. 

The man leaned his broad shoulders against 


X9* 


( 221 ) 


222 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


a door, and, inserting his thumbs in the arm- 
holes of his vest, surveyed his visitor most 
leisurely through his spectacles for some time. 
Then he condescended to say : 

“ Well, yes, we happen to need a bar-tender 
pretty bad just now, as our old one is laid up, 
and business is pushing. It is steady work, and 
if you can serve the liquors to my customers in- 
stead of drinking them yourself. I’ll give you a 
paying berth.” 

“ I’ve no mind to take the place, sir,” an- 
swered the applicant, firmly; “I don’t like the 
business.” 

**Eh, what?” ejaculated the big man, “are 
you particular as to the kind of work you get 
to do?” 

“ Yes, sir, I admit that I am somewhat par- 
ticular,” answered Fred. “ If I can secure no 
other employment, I am willing to groom your 
horses, clean out your stables, or do anything 
else that is honest and honorable, for fair wages, 
but as for selling whisky, I can’t get down quite 
so low as that, for any price.” 

Mr. Hite pulled his spectacles down from his 
forehead where he had pushed them to wipe his 
inflamed eyes, after his former scrutiny of Fred, 
and took another long survey of this applicant 
for work. 

“ Well, you are a rare specimen,” he said pre- 


WEIGHED IN THE BALANCE. 


223 


sently, still looking at his visitor from head to 
foot. “ Come into the house a bit. You remind 
me of somebody I used to know over there, 
somehow,” he said, making a gesture with his 
hand toward the sunrising. 

“ You say you can’t stoop to the business of 
selling liquor; do you mind taking a drop of the 
comfort yourself now and then ? ” 

“ Thank you, I don’t drink, either,” answered 
Fred, as the proprietor led the way to the house; 
** I used to do so, but I found that it made either 
a brute or an imbecile of me, and so I stopped.” 

“Ah ! you stopped, young man, did you ? ” 
asked Mr. Hite, in a contemplative, absent- 
minded sort of way. “ How did you do it ? 
Tapered off gradually, I suppose.” 

“ No, sir,” answered Fred ; “ ‘ tapering off' to 
a man of health and strength is tampering with 
the devil. Physicians may be compelled to use 
that method sometimes, but a man who has not 
yet reached the gulf of mania a potu had better 
not think of slackening up gradually. While he 
is out, he is out, and his wisest course is to stop 
short.” 

“ Easily said,” retorted the landlord, a little 
impatiently. 

“Easily done,” replied the other, “in the 
strength of the Almighty.” 

“ Oh, come now, don’t let us have any parson 


224 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


chat ! ” protested the man, in a tone and manner 
which betrayed great annoyance. 

‘‘Hello, there, Dick!” he called out to a 
passer-by, “ come in here a moment.” 

The boy made his appearance promptly. 

“ Stop your whistling when you are in the 
presence of gentlemen,” said Mr. Hite, with 
authority. Dick stopped short in the middle 
of his most skillfully executed strain, but kept 
his lips in a pucker, as if to be in readiness to 
go on when he might, and eyed Fred with 
critical keenness. 

Fred smiled under the scrutiny. He felt that 
he was being measured by his appearance ; that 
his character was being gauged by the clothes 
he wore. 

“Attend to what I am going to say, and don’t 
stare a stranger out of countenance,” spoke Mr. 
Hite, a little more sharply than before. He 
gave the boy a string of commissions, ending by 
saying : 

“ Now be off; and if you fail to be here by 
eight o’clock, you need not come back at all. 
Do you hear ? ” 

Dick did not unpucker his lips to answer, but 
nodded his head in reply, and as he darted out 
of the yard he took up his tune just where he 
had dropped it. 

“Come in, come in, sir,” invited Mr. Hite, 


WEIGHED IN THE BALANCE. 


225 


cordially. Sit down and be comfortable, my 
friend.” 

The seeker for employment was again tempted, 
this time with the sight and smell of the poison 
which he had denounced. Failing in this direc- 
tion, the enticements of the gaming-table were 
set before him by this newly-found friend, as he 
represented himself; but Fred was proof against 
all, in the strength of that One of whom he had 
spoken. 

Mr. Hite drew a long sigh, which sounded 
more like relief than disappointment. 

“ Well, then. I’ll talk with you a little,” he 
said, in a quick, business-like way. 

“ I am wanting a trustworthy man for another 
position — a rather responsible one, which, per- 
haps, might suit you better than that of bar- 
tender.” 

** What is it?” asked Fred. 

Mr. Hite proceeded to inform him that he 
had an extensive cattle ranch at some distance 
from Goldburgh, and that he wished to engage 
a brave and honest man to act as paymaster and 
attend to other business requiring energy and 
strict integrity. 

“ The last man I had decamped with his 
pockets full of my money,” concluded Mr. Hite; 
“ but I guess I can trust you.” 

And so it came about that Fred was employed 

p 


226 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


at a salary which was far beyond his expecta- 
tions. So true is it that sobriety and honesty 
are passports even in the eyes of those who may 
not themselves stand on the fair heights of in- 
tegrity and uprightness. Had Fred Rader ac- 
cepted the proffered glass, or engaged in the pro- 
posed game of cards, Mr. Hite would readily 
have seen that his professions were empty, and 
treated him accordingly, and would also have 
been confirmed in his scorn for religion and 
“ parson chat,” as he had sneeringly styled it. 
Instead, he was brought to ponder seriously, 
even against his will, whether there were not a 
grave reality in the things which he was wont 
to scoff at. 

Fred’s residence at the Goldburgh House 
gave him many opportunities of seeing little 
Harry, or Victor, as he was called, and when 
Mrs. Pope found that Fred made no attempt to 
carry the child off, she gradually relaxed her 
vigilance somewhat, although she never ceased 
to feel a pang of jealous anger whenever she 
witnessed the fondness which “ her boy,” as she 
called him, displayed for the man whom her 
husband had designated as a “ rough,” but whom 
the little fellow remembered as a gentle, tender 
friend in his helplessness. 


WEIGHED IN THE BALANCE. 


227 


The rich-hued leaves of October were waving 
in the forests, and crimson and gold were flam- 
ing amid the russet. The sky was at its bluest, 
and purple mists hung over the valleys. There 
was a bracing quality in the air, that elixir-like 
property which seems to make the life-currents 
flow more swiftly. 

Dick Dufley felt this, though he did not at- 
tribute it to any particular cause. However, he 
whistled his merriest tunes, and scampered 
through the forest aisles with almost as much 
agility as any squirrel. His activity to-day was 
that of the enjoyment of mere existence. He 
had not been told to-day, as usual, to be back at 
a certain time or not to return at all. 

Dick’s errand on this occasion was for Fred 
Rader, and led him to the cabin at the edge of 
the wood. He had some little trouble to find 
the spot. At last, after wandering aimlessly 
about for some time, hardly knowing what 
course he was taking, he heard a succession of 
notes whistled in a rest of his own, and, follow- 
ing the sound, he came in sight of a girl about 
his own age, her brown fingers tipped a darker 
shade, as she worked upon a heap of walnuts 
which she was busily hulling for winter, whist- 
ling meanwhile with a skillfulness which rivaled 
his own best performances. 

Well, did I ever ! ” exclaimed the boy, in an 
undertone. 


228 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


The girl’s quick ear caught the sound, and the 
whistling and work both ceased suddenly, as 
she rose to her feet and looked in the direction 
of the spot where Dick was peeping through 
the leaves. 

“ WcLS — that — you — a — whistling ? ” he in- 
quired, with a very good simulation of shocked 
incredulity in his tone, and coming forward to 
where she was standing. 

“Yes, it was!” answered Raven Wing, de- 
fiantly, “ and what have you to say about it. I’d 
like to know ? ” 

“ I — oh, nothing,” responded Dick, in nowise 
abashed at the defensive attitude taken by his 
new acquaintance. “ There’s a couplet I’ve 
heard somewhere about crowing girls and 
whistling hens — I don’t know as I remember it 
rightly, but — ” 

“ Don’t strain your memory to try to recall 
it,” interrupted the girl, sarcastically. “ I don’t 
care for such rubbish 1 ” this with lofty disdain, 
and resuming work upon her walnuts. 

“ If you can, will you kindly tell me where 
Mr. Black lives ? ” inquired Dick, with suddenly 
assumed politeness of manner. “ I have an 
errand to his house. I wish to see Mr. Black, 
and Miss Black, also. I have a message to de- 
liver froni my friend, the Honorable Mr. Frederic 
Rader, Esquire, of Goldburgh, Cashier of Rising 
Sun Ranch.” 


■WEIGHED IN THE BALANCE. 


229 


Raven Wing had sprung to her feet again 
and faced her companion, with* no effort to con- 
ceal the interest which his words had aroused. 

“ Do you know him ? Is he well ? When is 
he coming back ? ” she asked, as soon as she 
could get an opportunity, hurrying one question 
after another. 

“ Indeed, I do know him quite well,” responded 
Dick, with a patronizing air. “As to his health,” 
very deliberately, “ I believe he is about as usual. 
As to his coming out here, I reckon that is pretty 
uncertain, and that’s why he sent me. You see, 
Miss Black—” 

“ What is he doing in Goldburgh ? ” she asked, 
abruptly, ignoring his politeness. 

The impatient manner of the girl nettled her 
visitor, and he fell back to his old teasing habit 
more and more. 

“ Well, as I was saying, you see. Miss White,” 
he began. 

Raven Wing made an angry gesture, but he 
went on very innocently. 

“ He is not doing much of anything in Gold- 
burgh, exactly. The business he’s in takes him 
out o’ the city a considerable distance. The fact is. 
Miss Green, he’s cashier and paymaster for Mr. 
Hite’s big cattle ranch, as I said, and he handles 
more money, I reckon, than any other man in 
these parts. I tell you. Miss Brown, he could 
20 


230 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


vamose any day with enough money to set up 
a bank ; but it’s no use imagining such a thing : 
he’s honest to the core, just as sure as your 
name is Miss Gray.” 

A bright red spot was burning in each of 
Raven Wing’s brown cheeks, and her dark eyes 
flashed threateningly, but she bit her lips and 
remained silent until he had done speaking. 
Dick’s praise of Fred, no doubt, helped to sup- 
press the tumult that seemed ready to burst forth. 

“What message did he send?” she asked, 
simply. 

The evident distress in her face and tone 
touched a chord somewhere in Dick Dufley’s 
heart, and dropping his raillery, he answered 
promptly : 

“ He said I was to tell you to keep on study- 
ing and trying, and that he would send you a 
letter soon, and that he would come back as 
quick as ever he could, and that you must try 
to be patient; and he gave me this for your 
brother,” producing the letter with which he had 
been intrusted. 

“ But hold on ! ” he exclaimed, suddenly, 
“ you haven’t told me certainly whether you are 
really Miss — Miss — ” 

He had played upon the name until he had 
really become confused. 

“ I have just taken it for granted that you are 
Miss— Black!” 


WEIGHED IN THE BALANCE. 


231 


He pronounced the name with a little ex- 
plosive sound as it came back to him. 

*‘0r White, or Gray, or Greea or Blue,’* 
supplemented the girl, sarcastically. 

“Well, now, you see,” he began, apologeti- 
cally, “ I am kind o’ forgetful like, and more 
than that, Mrs. Hite declares I am stone color- 
blind ! ” 

This was too much for Raven Wing, whose 
good humor was gradually returning with sundry 
recollections of the promised letter, and more 
than all, the promised return. She broke into 
a merry, ringing laugh, in which Dick joined, 
until the woods rang, and the squirrels peeped 
out to see what was the occasion of the unusual 
commotion. 


CHAPTER XX. 


THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 


“And I will give thee the treasures of darkness, and hidden 
riches of secret places, that thou mayest know that I, the Lord, 
which call thee by thy name, am the God of Israel.” 



OOR Raven Wing! The days passed by 


in monotonous succession, and despite her 
work and her efforts to continue her education, 
time hung heavily on her hands. 

She had always remembered her brother as 
silent and reserved, though until Frederic Rader 
came to their home she had not thought 
much about it ; but the stay of this new brother 
had made a bright spot in her life, which caused 
the returning darkness to be tenfold more 
gloomy. 

She often wondered what could have been the 
contents of the letter which Jerome had received 
from Fred. She had seen him read and re- 
read it many times, and he seemed to grow 
even more silent than before. 

One morning after he had left the house. 


( 232 ) 


THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 


233 


she returned from milking to find him searching 
busily for something. He seemed embarrassed 
at being discovered, and awkwardly made haste 
to replace the articles which he was tumbling 
about. 

When asked what he was hunting for, he made 
an evasive reply and quickly went out. As soon 
as the door closed. Raven Wing made sundry 
nods and grimaces, and, going to the window, 
she watched her brother out of sight, shaking 
her head at his retreating figure in a knowing 
way. 

Then she ran up to the attic room, formerly 
occupied by Fred, and presently returned with 
something carefully wrapped in one of her 
dresses. It was evident that she supposed her 
brother to be in search of this treasure, what- 
ever it might be, and was determined to seek 
for it a safer hiding-place. 

Leaving the milk pails with their foaming 
contents on the table, she left the house. Turn- 
ing in the opposite direction from that taken by 
her brother, she struck into the wood, and went 
on and on through the thick ranks of trees that 
were now dropping their bright leaves with 
every passing wind, until the ground was like a 
beautiful carpet. The gay autumn flowers were 
still holding up their brilliant heads here and 
there, and the squirrels were chattering in the 
' 20 * 


'234 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


branches overhead, while the late birds were 
doing their best to make amends for the silence 
of the departed songsters. 

But the girl paid no attention to any of these 
pleasant sights and sounds. She hurried on, 
never pausing for an instant, until she reached a 
spot not far from the one where Dick Duffey 
had found her at work upon her walnuts. 

Then she looked about her, cautiously, as if 
fearing that she might not be alone. There was 
no one to be seen, and no sounds arose except 
the voices of nature, which the girl usually 
loved to hear. She was now intent upon her 
purpose. She placed her parcel at the foot of 
an oak tree, and brought a heavy, decaying log, 
which taxed her strength to the utmost. She 
leaned this against the trunk of the oak ; then 
securing her treasure, she carefully climbed up 
by her hands and knees, with the evident inten- 
tion of depositing it in a hollow at some distance 
from the ground. 

When she had nearly reached the opening, a 
fragment gave way on one side of the rotten 
trunk, and she fell the entire distance, bruising 
one of her elbows, but still clinging to her bundle. 
Nothing daunted, she attempted the ascent a 
second time, and now she was successful. 

Hiding the treasure safely in the hollow, she 
climbed down in safety, and removing her im- 


THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 


235 


provised stairway, she darted off in the direction 
of home, smiling to herself as she rubbed her 
elbow. She had succeeded in hiding safely 
whatever it was she was so desirous to secure. 

It was indeed a treasure whose value she 
knew not. Besides its own intrinsic worth, it 
carried with it a secret of which she was ignor- 
ant, and which there was another who would 
have given much to know. 

However, all would be made clear in the 
great Ruler’s own good time. 

She slackened her speed as she left the hiding- 
place behind her, and made her way back more 
leisurely than she had come. 

On reaching home she found her new ac- 
quaintance, Dick, awaiting her with the promised 
letter, a Reader, and a copy-book, with writing 
materials, from Fred. Dick’s memory seemed 
to have improved since their last meeting, but 
the expression of mischief in his eyes made 
Raven Wing distrust him even while she was 
glad to see him. 

Meanwhile, Fred was doing faithfully the 
work which his hands had found to do, and 
trying to wait with patience for an answer to his 
advertisement. 

He had offered a liberal compensation to the 
witness whose services he wished to secure, yet 


236 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


as week after week passed by and he received 
no answer, he sometimes wished that he had 
doubled or even trebled the amount. 

Finally he felt that the result of this last effort 
was complete failure ; and much disheartened at 
the unsuccessful termination of this, the only 
hope which he knew for the accomplishment of 
his wishes, he arranged his business for the 
promised visit to his friends in the cabin on the 
forest border. 

We often become discouraged at the miscar- 
riage of our plans, thinking that all these things 
are against us, and that we are hemmed about, 
and shut in from the paths of success, and our 
faith fails or grows very dim ; and all the while 
our heavenly Father is preparing for us a far 
better success than we could ever have devised 
or imagined for ourselves. 

And, oh, when our joy bursts upon us like a 
bright, beautiful morning after a night of storm 
and darkness, how is our happiness mingled with 
repentance and self-reproach ! 

We know that the blessedness of heaven will 
be complete and perfect, but will not its raptur- 
ous harmonies know a minor chord of wonder 
at least, that we should have trusted our Father 
so little here below ? that we should have walked 
so far from our Saviour while he was preparing 
our mansions for us ? 


THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 


237 


Fred saw little Harry just before leaving Gold- 
burgh. The child had crossed the street, as he 
often did, to talk with his old friend. As the 
little fellow sat on his knee on the hotel piazza 
the old temptation was strong upon him to take 
the child by force. His horse was unusually 
swift, and he knew of many secure hiding- 
places. 

But something held him back from the act as 
too near akin, in appearance at least, to the law- 
less acts of the band to which he had belonged 
in that portion of his life which was now a re- 
proach and a shame to him. 

He would avoid all appearance of lawlessness, 
and try to trust, amid his discouragements, to 
the arm which holds up the foundations of the 
earth. But the struggle was a hard one, and 
made still harder by little Harry himself. When 
he learned that Fred was going away, he begged 
eagerly to be taken, and when refused, cried 
piteously and would not be comforted. 

Fred led the sobbing child across to his 
home, and, placing him upon the steps, gently 
pulled himself free from the little clinging hands 
and turned away. 

Events were soon to follow which would 
cause him to remember this parting with keen 
pain, almost allied to self-reproach. 

And yet he knew that he might have en- 


238 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


dangered the child’s welfare as well as his own 
by stealing the little fellow away, even from 
those who had no right to him. 

He turned down the street without looking 
back, lest his courage should fail at sight of 
the pitiful baby face behind him.' Ah, when 
should he see it again ? 

He went to the book-store and bought some 
books of easy reading for Raven Wing, and a 
Bible, on the fly-leaf of which he wrote the 
name of Jerome Black, and underneath the text : 

Behold, the Lord’s hand is not shortened, that 
it cannot save; neither his ear heavy, that it can- 
not hear.” 

Fred’s appearance at the cabin was hailed with 
joy. Raven Wing was delighted with her gifts, 
and, to her great surprise, her brother accepted 
the Bible and thanked the giver warmly. But 
when at the time of evening prayer he too knelt 
down, she felt that a strange thing had indeed 
taken place; that a change had been wrought 
which she could not understand. 

A wonderful transformation had indeed been 
brought about. The barriers of human reason 
which this man had tried to rear in opposition 
to the truth — the Christian religion in which his 
parents had lived and died, had always proved 
unsatisfactory to his nature, had failed to bring 


THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 


239 


him peace, and had now been swept away, and 
he brought back to the immutable rock of safety 
and comfort. 

And what had wrought this surrender ? The 
word of God which is quick, and powerful, and 
sharper than any two-edged sword.” 

Raven Wing had for some time been con- 
scious that her brother was growing to be very 
different from his former self He had for some 
time seemed like Fred, she thought. In no 
other way could she describe the transformation 
even in her own thoughts ; but as she turned 
his Bible softly in her hands, she felt that she 
might now bring home the treasure which she 
had hidden away in the oak in the depth of the 
forest. 

When she saw his name, she asked Fred to 
write hers also in the books he had given her. 
As he prepared to comply with her request, 
Jerome said : 

‘‘Stop a moment, please. The child has a 
Christian name, given by her Christian parents. 
Let it be that.” 

So the name that was written was that sweet 
name which, in the glow of the story of the life 
and death of Jesus, and the pious ministrations 
which he received at the hands of woman, 
must ever be a crown of womanhood — the name 
of Mary, 


240 STRUGGLING UPWARD. 

“ I believe you told me that you have a Bible,” 
remarked Fred. 

The girl flushed and looked unaccountably 
confused. 

“ I — yes, I have, but it is — put away,” she 
stammered. 

Oh, you should keep it where you can lay 
your hand on it at any time, and read it every 
day,” answered Fred. 

She went out of the room with something 
of her old willful abruptness, and was gone for 
some time. She showed no signs of anger on 
her return, but was silent and absorbed in her 
manner. She sat in the firelight, looking up at 
the ceiling, as if she were counting the hams 
and pieces of dried venison which told of plenty 
of meat for the coming winter. At last she 
spoke, abruptly : 

“ Simpson Harris and his sister were here 
last week. They both inquired about you.” 

“Ah! I am glad to hear from them,” answered 
Fred, heartily. “ Little Nellie is a woman now, 
I suppose.” 

“ It was not his own sister : it was Miss Baird 
— Katie, he calls her,” explained Jerome. “ She 
is an adopted sister, and indeed ready to act the 
part of sister to the whole human family, doing 
good whenever she has opportunity.” 


THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 


241 


Fred remembered vaguely the little figure in 
the long cloak and funny, big bonnet, who had 
been known by that name in Lynton, and he 
was soon lost in memories that must always 
wear a tone of deep sadness. 

He little dreamed that Katie Baird, the Chris- 
tian worker, whom Jerome Black had pronounced 
a sister to all, and who now gave her time and 
attention to the sick and afflicted for months in 
succession, asking no compensation but a bare 
support, was the one who had nursed Mrs. 
Gills, the witness for whom he had advertised 
in vain. 

What a tangled web do human affairs often 
present, as seen from our standpoint and with 
our finite vision ? But he who has planned the 
whole has power to bring order out of con- 
fusion ; blessed be his great and holy name ! 

The time passed on, and Fred’s visit must 
come to an end. The evening before his de- 
parture, at his request, Jerome assumed the 
position which his guest had hitherto occupied, 
and read with solemn joy from the words of our 
Saviour the same parable which Fred had read 
on another occasion, of the return of the wanderer 
to the house of his Father, and then there arose 
a prayer that was like the pent-up sorrow of a 
contrite heart; a prayer of confession, earnest 
21 , Q 


242 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


petition, thanksgiving and consecration, such as 
had never before been heard in that humble 
home. 

The next morning while Jerome was absent 
from the house, his sister told Fred how she 
had hidden a treasure in the hollow oak, and 
that it was the Bible about which he had ques- 
tioned her, and that when she went to find it, it 
was gone. 

“ Don’t let it trouble you,” answered Fred, 
“ perhaps some one took it who will read it and 
find the good way. I will bring or send you 
another. But tell me why you hid it away in 
the woods.” 

She hesitated, and seemed troubled by the 
question; but at last it all came out that she 
was afraid that her brother would destroy it if 
he found it. 

“And just to think that he wanted to read it ! ” 
she sobbed, overcome at the thought of her un- 
just suspicions, and the great change which had 
taken place in her brother. 

“ Besides,” she went on, “ there was something 
in it about you, and I intended to show it to 
you the next time you came, — you and your 
brothers and sisters, I suppose, and, oh, I don’t 
know who all ! ” 

“What do you mean?” asked Fred, in a 
startled tone. 


THE HIDDEN TREASURE. 


m 


** I didn’t understand it,” answered the girl. 
** It was some writing in the middle of the book. 
I know it was your name ; it was like that at 
the end of brother’s letter: I could read that; 
and then there were ever so many more Raders, 
whose other names I can’t tell.” 

The listener rose up hurriedly. 

“ Please come and show me where you hid it. 
Maybe I can find it.” 

She shook her head, dejectedly, but went with 
him and pointed out the hollow tree in which 
she had placed the missing book. 

On the way Fred questioned her as to where 
she had obtained it at the first. She answered 
that she had found it in the pasture lot on the 
next day after the big storm which blew down 
so many trees and houses. 

Fred’s search proved as fruitless as his com- 
panion’s. The Bible had evidently been found 
by some one and taken away. 

The young man was much disappointed, and 
made an effort to conceal his feelings. 

Well, never mind,” he said, “ I’ll send you 
a new Bible, and then I may have the old one 
for my own if I ever find it, may I ? ” 

“ Oh, to be sure ! ” she answered, well pleased 
at the idea of a new one like her brother’s. 

Was it at all probable that he should ever 
see it again ? 


CHAPTER XXL 


SERPENT TOOTH. 

“ To him who knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him 
it is sin. 

“ They have sown the wind, and they shall reap the whirl- 
wind.” 

W HEN we read the records of Indian out- 
rages, handed down to us by history, 
or start shudderingly at the stories of the treach- 
ery and cruelty of these people of the far West 
toward their pale face brethren to-day, the cold 
blooded atrocities committed may well excite 
our horror. 

But can we forget — have we a right to forget 
— that the Red Man has learned much of his 
cunning and treachery from his white brother ? 
Can we forget that the vice of drunkenness came 
to these forest children through the channel of 
a so-called civilization, a channel which should 
have coilveyed to their dark minds pure streams 
of light and truth, but which, alas ! has been too 
often muddy with sensualism, avarice, and double 
dealing ? 

( 244 ) 


^SERPENT TOOTH. 


245 


These thoughts are deeply humiliating, but it 
is well for us not to forget them, and to bear in 
mind that we all have a duty to perform, in 
aiding to put away the evil which has been 
wrought among these people. Much has been 
done already, but much yet remains to be done. 

Rumors came to Goldburgh, from time to 
time, of the raids of a company of Indians headed 
by a chief whose well-chosen name Serpent 
Tooth, awoke horror wherever it was heard. 
His depredations were the theme of every tongue, 
and the authorities of the town made haste to 
ask a detachment of troops from the military 
post not far distant. 

In the prayer for protection, signed by many 
of the prominent citizens, no allusion of course 
was made to the fact that more than one of these 
citizens were liquor-dealers and had furnished 
strong drink by the barrel to these lawless sava- 
ges at various times. 

The commander sent what soldiers he could 
spare, and this force was increased by citizens. 
The camp at Thunder Gap was deserted for a 
time and all repaired to the town, most of those 
having guns joining the militia. 

And now that they felt that their safety was 
assured, the careless ones of the community 
went on their ways with their accustomed gayety, 
21 * 


246 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


with thoughtless unconcern as to the peril of the 
lives of those thus sent for their defence. 

Then tidings came that Serpent Tooth and 
his men had turned their course in an altogether 
different direction, and that no immediate dan- 
ger was to be feared. 

The excitement had subsided, and now an 
unwise feeling of security took possession of the 
minds of most of the people who had lately been 
so greatly alarmed. 

As those who live in the neighborhood of an 
active volcano relapse into a sense of safety 
when the latest rumble from the crater has 
died away, so these people forgot that danger 
had seemed to menace them, and relaxed 
their vigilance. At last the soldiers were re- 
called, and only the militia left to defend the 
town. 

Grant Lucas, who had formerly served in the 
army, was made captain of the squad and drilled 
untiringly those who were to form the defence 
of the town in case the enemy should return 
unexpectedly. And this was precisely what the 
enemy did. The feint had succeeded to a great 
extent. The town was now in a great measure 
off guard, and there were dusky faces peering 
through the evergreens of the forest back of the 
little city, and stealthy feet tracking the pathless 
wilds that offered them no hindrance in their 


SERPENT TOOTH. 


247 


march and covered their approach from those 
whom they ‘were about to attack. 

The curtain of night fell over the place, and 
houses were brilliantly illuminated that were in 
reality abodes of moral darkness. Resorts that 
were traps for the unwary, with tempting gilded 
baits, were thrown open to entice the passers-by 
with the glow and beauty within. For this 
remote western town of recent growth could 
boast of gambling dens furnished with a luxu- 
rious disregard of cost, and drinking saloons 
that were perfect palaces of sin. Alas for those 
whose boast and glory is in the progress of the 
work of the evil one ! 

There was no sign of the blow about to fall 
upon the doomed inhabitants, but there was a 
stealthy, invisible approach of figures with hid- 
eously painted faces, unseen in the darkness, 
and bearing, not the rude arms of savage war- 
fare, but the white man’s weapon, the trusty 
musket with shining steel bayonet. 

Nearer and nearer the foe approached with 
cautious, silent footsteps, and then the air was 
rent with the fearful war-whoop that sends terror 
to the hearts of those who hear, whether it 
comes as the oft heard signal for the onslaught 
of those who know no pity and ask no quarter, 
or whether it strikes the affrighted ear for the 
first time with an awful, nameless dread. 


248 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


Had the militia been expecting the assault, 
and waiting, shoulder to shoulder, to repel it, 
they must have proved no match for the over^ 
powering numbers of Serpent Tooth’s band ; 
but many of the men were off duty, some of 
them, alas ! too much intoxicated to understand 
the meaning of the summons to arms, had there 
been time to issue it. 

As it was, the small garrison was thoroughly 
overpowered, though not without a struggle, 
and those taken alive were hurried to the rear 
and sent off rapidly in charge of a squad de- 
tailed for that purpose. They were to be held 
as hostages, and, alas, for the fate that awaited 
them should they be left to the mercy of Serpent 
Tooth ! 

The guards all disarmed and taken prisoners, 
or left with upturned faces where they fell, the 
town was an easy prey to the savages. I can- 
not depict the scenes of horror that followed, 
the burning of houses and wholesale murder 
of men, women and children, until the marauders 
wearied somewhat of their bloody work. 

There were some who managed to elude the 
foe and remained in hiding-places until the In- 
dians had left. There were also some who made 
their escape from- the town and took refuge 
where they might till the danger was past. 


SERPENT TOOTH. 


249 


The work of destruction was done quickly, 
and the raiders, many of them, dashed away on 
stolen horses, taking with them such other 
prisoners as they chose to add to those already 
sent off. When the morning dawned there were 
no signs of the invaders except the horrible work 
which they had done. 

There were the pale, cold faces of the dead; 
the scarcely less pale countenances of the 
wounded and helpless ; the fife that raged un- 
abated in some quarters of the town ; the horror- 
stricken expressions of those who emerged from 
their hiding-places to look for their friends and 
their homes, in many cases to find the former 
among the dead, the latter smoking, shapeless 
ruins. 

There were three large, wholesale liquor stores 
in Goldburgh, and these, after the Indians had 
supplied themselves with “fire-water,” were fired, 
the liquor adding to the flames of the conflagra- 
tion. It was as if the degraded savages had 
blindly revenged themselves on those who, in 
furnishing them with intoxicating drink, had thus 
aided in their degradation. 

The news of the sad fate of Goldburgh was 
spread far and near, and relief for the sufferers 
petitioned. 

Doctors and nurses came in response to the 
appeal, and a hospital was established in one of 


250 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


the largest buildings which had escaped the 
flames. 

Among those who oflered themselves to assist 
in the care of the sufferers were two who had met 
before at the bedside of the dying — Fred Rader 
and Katie Baird, the nurse who had cared for 
Mrs. Gills in her last hours. 

Ever since he had obtained his freedom Fred 
had longed most ardently for the presence of 
this sole witness to the dying woman’s bequest. 
Now the witness was at hand, but where was 
the baby ? ” 

Fred had returned from an unavoidably pro- 
tracted stay at the ranch, at the first intelligence 
of the raid, to find the Grand Hotel a ghastly, 
blackened ruin. The handsome rooms and 
costly furnishings had vanished with the smoke. 

Grant Lucas was among the severely wounded, 
but although he had professed his willingness to 
die, having nothing, as he said, to live for, he 
was still in the land of the living and receiving 
good medical attention and careful nursing; and 
Fred had yet again many opportunities of pre- 
senting the truth to this one who stumbled in 
dark places because the afflicting hand of God 
had been laid upon him, not knowing or forget- 
ful of the fact that Whom the Lord loveth he 
chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he 
receiveth.” ' 


SERPENT TOOTH. 


251 


Fred’s efforts were always treated with polite^ 
ness, but he almost ceased to hope that any im- 
pression was being made, and ceased all argu- 
ment, only reading daily to the sufferer, by his 
own tacit consent, a portion of Scripture. 

There were many days and nights of pain and 
weariness to the victims of Indian cruelty in 
Goldburgh ; and those who had volunteered to 
nurse the poor unfortunates were called to pass 
through long periods of watching without rest. 
The two who proved most enduring and untir- 
ing were Frederic Rader and his friend, Katie 
Baird, and they were sustained by a strength 
which was not their own. They were upheld 
by his presence and power who has said: “In- 
asmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least 
of these my brethren, ye have done it unto 
me.’’ 

We sometimes think that those who lived on 
earth when our Lord was here, and had the pre- 
cious opportunity of ministering to him with 
their own hands, were especially blest. The 
humble little family at Bethany has seemed a 
household to be greatly envied. But if we re- 
ceive our Master’s words unquestioningly, and 
act upon them, we may be blest and honored by 
a service which he accepts as if bestowed upon 
him in person. 

Dick Duffey was among the injured, and his 


252 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


formerly merry face was now flushed and his 
eyes wild with fever. He had received a blow 
on the head which had rendered him senseless 
at the time, and delirium had followed. 

For a while the boy seemed wavering between 
life and death, but skillful treatment and un- 
ceasing attention finally triumphed and he be- 
gan to amend, though very slowly. 

With the first return of reason, he begged to 
be allowed to get up. 

“There is something I must attend to,” he said. 

“ Never mind it now ; let it wait,” said Fred, 
soothingly. “You must not trouble yourself 
about it. You have nothing to do but rest and 
get well. You are to have everything you need, 
and a good long holiday in which to get rested 
and strong.” 

But the boy would not be put off. 

“ I tell you I have an errand of my own ! ” 
he exclaimed, impatiently, the hot waves of color 
coming back to his pale cheeks. “ I intended 
to do it long ago, but Mr. Hite kept me so busy, 
and then something else hindered me,” he added, 
rubbing his hand across his forehead as if trying 
to recollect what had taken place. 

Seeing that opposition was producing the 
very effect which^ he wished to avoid, Fred 
asked the boy what it was which he wanted 
done, promising to see that it was attended to. 


SERPENT TOOTH. 


253 


“I’ll attend to it myself; please let me!” 
begged Dick, making an effort to rise. But he 
had largely overestimated his strength, and soon 
found that he was unable to raise himself upon 
his elbow. 

He sank back with a groan, and a look of 
pitiful weakness and pain on his face. 

“ Come, Dick,” said his nurse, with gentle 
authority, “ you will make yourself worse. Can 
you not trust me to do whatever it is you want 
done, and have it off your mind ? ” 

“ Yes, Mr. Fred, I can trust you,” answered 
the boy. “You will believe that I never in- 
tended to break my promise to granny and you. 
I didn't intend to steal it. I just took it for 
fun, and intended to take it and give it to her, 
or put it back in the hollow tree.” 

A light broke over Fred’s face. 

“ It was an old book ; wasn’t it, Dick ? ” he 
asked. 

Dick tried to pucker his lips for a whistle of 
surprise, but failed in the attempt. 

“ How did you know ? ” he managed to 
stammer. 

“ Oh, Mary Black told me about it and I sent 
her a new Bible, and she said I might have the 
old one if I could find it; so just tell me 
where it is, and then don’t worry any more 
about it.” 

22 


254 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


Despite his cheerful manner, a dark fear was 
in Fred’s mind that the Bible might have perished 
in the conflagration. But a look of intense re- 
lief passed over Dick’s thin features. 

It’s down at the shanty in the box under 
the bunk,” he said ; adding, “ I’m not so good as 
some, but I’m no thief, now, am I ? ’* 

** No, that you are not,” answered Fred, 
heartily. “And now you must take your medi- 
cine and go to sleep. The doctor will be scold- 
ing us both if he comes and finds you in a fever 
from having talked so much.” 

The sick boy was soon sound asleep and 
resting all the better for having confessed his 
fault; but Fred’s thoughts where in a whirl of 
emotion, and it required no little patience to 
wait for an opportunity to go down to the shanty 
where Dick had lodged. It was just outside of 
the town, and had in all probability remained 
unharmed. 

Could it be that this Bible was the same 
which he had seen his grandfather read so often? 
And if so, how came it here ? 

The picture of the good old man, with his 
peaceful, saintly face and snow-white hair, ap- 
peared before him. He remembered the tender, 
reverent way in which he turned over the leaves; 
and how he, a wayward boy, used to wonder 
that his grandfather seemed to care but little for 


SERPENT TOOTH. 


255 


any other book, and think to himself how dull 
it must be to read the Bible so much. He had 
since learned something of the preciousness of 
that word which giveth life, and he felt that it 
would indeed be a privilege to possess the vol- 
ume which had been in the hands of those whose 
memory was now so dear. 

But there were duties at hand to be performed. 
There was medicine to be given ; there was beef- 
tea to be made and administered to those who 
could begin to take nourishment; there were 
wounds to be dressed and irritated nerves to be 
soothed. 

Some of the patients were neither prepossess- 
ing in their appearance, nor agreeable in their 
manners, often repaying untiring care and kind- 
ness with impatience and fault-finding. 

But the physician and the nurse, whether ad- 
ministering either to the bodies or the souls of 
the sick, must possess his own soul in patience 
if he hopes to secure the best results. 

There were sad memories of the little one 
given into his care, mingled too with the whirl 
of contending thoughts. He might now estab- 
lish his right to the little fellow so unceremoni- 
ously taken out of his charge ; but, ah ! who 
could tell ? The child might now be beyond 
the reach of earthly care, or among the miserable, 
ill-treated prisoners who were dragging out a 


256 STRUGGLING UPWARD. 

lingering captivity at the mercy of their unfeel- 
ing captors. But however deep might be the 
gloom in his mind, Fred felt that he must wear 
a cheerful face and maintain a tranquil, undis- 
turbed exterior. 

So the days went on, and several had passed 
before he found an opportunity to go to the 
shanty at the outskirts of the town, where was 
deposited the book he was longing so eagerly to 
examine. 

But one evening the doctor said to him : 

“ Fred, you should now go out for a walk 
before the night watch begins. You’ll have a 
hard night with Nelson and Gilmore. They are 
just sufficiently convalescent to be particularly 
troublesome. Don’t come under half an hour ; 
the walk will do you more good than an hour’s 
sleep.” 

The order was willingly obeyed. It was nearly 
dark, and the cool, fresh air was very refreshing 
to the tired watcher. He lost no time in mak- 
ing his way to the former lodging-place of poor 
Dick. 

Pushing open the little rickety door, he effected 
an entrance by stooping, and soon found the 
box containing the treasure he had come to seek. 
It was carefully placed at the bottom under the 
boy’s scanty possessions ; but it did not require 
long to reach it, still wrapped in^ the garment in 


SERPENT TOOTH. 


257 


which it had been folded by its former pos- 
sessor. 

Taking a match from his pocket, Fred made 
a light in the dark little room and sat down to 
examine the book. There on the yellow fly- 
leaf, in faded characters, was the name of Henry 
Rader, When with trembling fingers he had 
found the family record, his tiny light had 
burned itself out. He made another, and read, 
with moist eyes, the names familiar to his boy- 
hood. 

Then darkness came again, and, bowing his 
head upon the rude bed, he wept freely as the 
tide of sad, sweet memories rolled over him. 
Recovering himself, he went outside, and in the 
day’s last, reflected light he turned to another 
page, and found recorded by another hand the 
death of the dear old grandfather who had held 
this volume as his choicest treasure. 

Then followed the death of his father and 
mother, both bearing one date, and that of little 
Archie a little later. 

He read the pitiful lines again and again with 
an aching heart. Where was he, he asked him- 
self, when these dear ones passed away from 
earth ? Were neglect and starvation the fate of 
those who had died in those two days ? 

He hurriedly turned over the leaf to hide the 
accusing words from his sight. And then there 

22* R 


258 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


met his eyes a great surprise, that fairly be- 
wildered him and made him feel almost as if he 
were dreaming. 

On the new leaf, bearing the heading, Mar- 
riages,” there appeared in a free, bold hand the 
names of Grant Lucas and Olive Rader ! 

He could hardly believe the evidence of his 
eyes. He recalled the merry face of his sister 
Olive as he had seen it last. Could it be pos- 
sible ? Were those two nameless forest graves 
the resting-places of his sister and her little child? 

Deeply did he bewail anew the sin and folly 
which had led him to forsake his home and 
friends. How near the life of this last surviving 
one had come to his own — and now this was all ! 

The strong man wept again, and retreating 
again into Dick’s humble room, prayed in agony 
for forgiveness and strength to endure. 

When at last he came forth, it was as one con- 
secrated to labor in season and out of season for 
the building up of the Master’s kingdom and the 
welfare of his fellows. Acknowledging the com- 
mon kindred of all mankind, he would labor 
for God and humanity and seek to forget the 
sorrow of his soul, in the joy of others. 

Fred went back to the hospital to meet the 
rebuke of the keen-eyed old doctor, for “ worry- 
ing himself over somethingNvhen he should have 
thought of nothing but absolute rest.” 


SERPENT TOOTH. 


259 


Thank you, I am quite ready for my post,’* 
answered Fred, smiling. 

“Yes, you will be ready for a post in one of 
these wards before half of the patients are up, 
if I do not keep an eye on you,” grumbled the 
physician. “And they could spare me far more 
easily,” he added to himself as he reached the 
passage. 

But Fred went on unflaggingly, and the doctor 
wondered at his endurance. One by one the 
injured rallied ; and one by one the blackened 
ruins of Goldburgh gave place to newly-erected 
buildings, and life and gayety began to flow on 
much the same as before the massacre and the 
burning. 

There were more graves in the cemetery, but 
the living did not pause to count them. Refugees 
who had fled at the approach of the Indians re- 
turned when their dwellings were made ready 
for them, and many of those whose whereabouts 
none knew ceased to be missed, as gradually 
the marks of the devastation disappeared. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


THE WHITE SISTER. 


“ Let him know, that he which converteth the sinner from 
the error of his way shall save a soul from death, and shall 
hide a multitude of sins.” 



HE hospital at Goldburgh was being de- 


serted by one and another, and the faith- 
ful nurses were seeing the crowning result of 
their labor. 

Grant Lucas, though still unable to be removed, 
could sit up in an easy chair, and Dick Duffey 
had resumed his whistling, the best possible 
symptom, the doctor said. 

Fred had never yet ventured to inform Grant of 
the discovery he had made of their relationship. 
He shrank from opening anew the wound which 
seemed ever rankling in his friend’s heart, and 
which he feared was keeping him out of the 
kingdom. He wondered sometimes whether 
Grant would read the Bible which had belonged 
to his wife, if it were given to him ; he knew 
that he would prize it for her sake, but some- 
thing held him back from introducing the subject, 


( 260 j 


THE WHITE SISTER. 


261 


from day to day. He read aloud every day 
from his own copy of the Scriptures, and if 
Grant would not accept God’s word, what was 
there to be hoped from human associations, even 
though the most tender and sacred ? 

One day Grant said to him : 

“You ought not to be wasting your time 
here, Fred. You ought to be on the hunt of 
that child if you think it is still among the living. 
I wish I were able to help you. If, as you say, 
you can now prove your right to him, you ought 
not to be idle in the matter.” 

“ I assure you I am not idle,” answered Fred. 
“ I have two of the best scouts in the country at 
work, and I must leave you for a day or two 
soon, to get their reports.” 

That same evening a boy called with a note 
from Jerome Black, who had just returned home, 
and had something to communicate which might 
prove important. 

Fred arranged for his absence, and lost no 
time in obeying the summons. He arrived, as 
he had done on the occasion of his first visit, 
about daylight. He was warmly welcomed, and 
duly informed that Jerome had reconnoitered an 
Indian camp some twenty miles distant, which 
contained three white prisoners, a man, woman, 
and child. The Indians were hostile, and much 
precaution had been necessary in order to ap- 


262 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


proach near enough to see, without being dis- 
covered. 

Mary had also visited a friendly tribe, but said 
that she had learned nothing of the child. 

I don’t wish to arouse your expectations too 
much by what I have seen,” added the* brother. 
“ The child I saw must be of about the same 
age as yours, and has blue eyes and yellow curl- 
ing hair, as you say yours has. If this is not 
the one you are hunting, he is very much like 
him. But it is my opinion that children of that 
age and type are all very much alike,” continued 
the narrator. I tell you this for what it may 
be worth. As soon as Mary can get some food 
ready for us to carry with us, we will start out 
and try to steal another march on the Indians 
to-night, and you can see for yourself whether 
this little captive is the one you are in search of. 
Hurry up. Sis, please,” he concluded, as he went 
out. 

But Mary deliberately shaved down the beef 
she was' cutting, and spread the big slices of 
bread as carefully as if the smoothness of the 
yellow butter was to prove the chief excellence 
of the lunch. 

Brother is not used to babies. I know they 
don’t all look alike,” she asserted, setting her 
head on one side and looking critically at the 


THE WHITE SISTER. 


263 


slices as she piled them up, placing the beef be- 
tween the layers. 

“ I believe if I had been there, I should have 
known whether it was the baby or not, even if 
I had never seen him before. 

“ There were no children in my camp,” she 
continued, “except the pappooses; and only 
one white woman. But she is equal to a dozen. 
She seems like you,” she added, with uncon- 
scious compliment. “ She is not a prisoner, but 
a kind of missionary or something. They call 
her ‘ The White Sister.’ She told me that she 
had been among the Indians for several years. 
She was a prisoner once; but now she just stays 
with them to teach them. She says that her 
friends are all dead, and that she expects to 
spend the rest of her life among the Indians. 
She told me her story, and if I have time I will 
tell it to you. She lost her little child too. 
Ah, me ! ” 

The narrator, still continuing her preparations 
for lunch, struck a dejected attitude which would 
have appeared laughable but for the sadness of 
her topic and the unmistakable genuineness of 
her feelings. 

“ It seems to me that people have a deal of 
trouble in this world. You see,” she went on, 
in the rambling manner of one unaccustomed to 
connected and concise narration, “ the' Indians 


264 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


came, and they, rushed in with their faces painted 
horribly, and flourishing their tomahawks, and 
yelling, and — ” 

Just at this interesting point in the narrative, 
Jerome’s voice was heard calling out : 

“ The horses are ready ; be as quick ; the sun 
is getting up and it’s time we were off.” 

Well, you shall tell me the White Sister’s 
story another time. Good-bye,” said Fred, as 
the two hurried out. 

“ Be sure you fasten up the cabin well, and 
keep your rifle ready,” charged Jerome. “ Did 
you think you were getting up army rations ? ” 
he asked laughingly, as he received the package 
of refreshments from his sister’s hands. 

“Just put that in your big pocket,” answered 
the girl, with a little air of authority. “ If you 
find that boy he will be half-starved, I have no 
doubt ; and you will both come back in the 
same condition,” she added saucily, as the two 
rode off. 

The moon was dropping slowly down behind 
the tall pines, and the shadows were stealing 
across the valleys as Fred and his friend waited 
for the darkness which should hide their ap- 
proach to the camp whose smoke rose up in the 
fading moonbeams, yet plainly visible in the 
distance. 


THE WHITE SIS TEE. 


265 


The silence was unbroken ; there was not even 
the chirp of an insect or the hoot of an owl to 
break the monotonous stillness ; and the stars, 
looking down through the trees, appeared as if 
they also waited— when hark ! A sound of 
snapping twigs not far from the place where 
they crouched came distinctly to the ears of both 
men. 

A moment of silence followed, and then they 
felt rather than heard some one stealing near 
them. 

The two men examined their rifles and waited. 

“ White man no shoot friendly squaw,” said 
a voice, softly. “ White man hunting pappoose 
again. Same white man ; same pappoose. White 
man trust squaw ; give new blanket all the same. 
Good!” 

*‘A11 right,” spoke Fred; “bring the child 
again and you shall have two new blankets and 
more money than you got before.” 

“Burning Star no want money; no want 
blankets,” answered the woman. “ Much cough 
in winter; much pain. Burning Star will set 
very soon. She will go near the White Sister ; 
she will learn more of the Great Father and die 
glad, like Swift Arrow.” 

“ Be it so I ” answered Fred, heartily. “ You 
shall go with us and we will find the White 
Sister for you.” 

23 


266 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


She gave her little grunt of acquiescence and 
disappeared. 

The two men waited, and after a time they 
heard the barking of the dogs in the camp. 
Then silence came again and the time passed 
on and on, and still she did not return, and Fred 
and his companion at last prepared to accept 
another failure and retrace their steps before 
daylight should appear. As they waited a little 
longer with the forlorn hope that the squaw 
still might come, a panting sound, as of the 
breathing of a tired animal, was heard, and a 
moment later she appeared with a child in her 
arms. 

Much heavy pappoose ! ” she gasped, as 
Fred relieved her of her burden. She was com- 
pelled to sit down and rest before she could go 
any further. 

“ Too big to carry ; too little to walk, and big, 
fat, white brave and squaW leave him behind 
when they run off last night while red braves 
were drunk — ugh ! ” 

** Mamma and papa went off and lefted me ! ” 
sobbed little Harry. 

Then it was Mr. and Mrs. Pope who had been 
seen by Jerome, and they had thus basely de- 
serted the child whom they had forcibly kept 
from his rightful protector. 


THE WHITE SISTER. 


267 


“ Poor baby ! ” said Fred, using the old fam- 
iliar name, “ he shall stay with me.” 

“ Then I am glad they lefted me ! ” exclaimed 
the child, taking comfort at once. “ Let us go 
before the Indians get us.” 

As soon as Burning Star was sufficiently 
rested, the party proceeded to the place where 
the horses had been left, and lost no time in 
setting out on the return. The journey was a 
joyful one to Fred. His heart rose up in silent 
thanksgiving, and a new, fresh hope that he 
could not understand took possession of his 
soul. It was as if a curtain had been lifted and 
he saw something of brightness beyond, which 
he could not comprehend. 

The liberal supply of food prepared by Mary 
proved most timely. Little Harry seemed in- 
deed almost famished, and the poor old woman 
ate her share with eagerness. 

It was sunset when they came in sight of home 
and were greeted by the sight of the well-known, 
cheerful-looking objects of home life. Mary 
was standing at the door radiant with expecta- 
tion, but not a little puzzled at seeing the squaw 
accompanying the party. 

“ You have recovered one prisoner and taken 
another, I see,” she said, gaily. 

“ Be still, Mary,” said her brother, with gentle 
rebuke in his tone. 


268 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


The squaw raised her eyes to Fred’s face : 

“ The white man will not prove treacherous 
like some of his brothers,” she said. It was not 
a question, but rather a statement by which she 
had meant to reassure herself. 

“ Never ! ” answered Fred. “ Fear nothing. 
You have brought me back my child a second 
time. I will never fail you,” he added, warmly. 

She seemed satisfied, and entered the house 
with the others. 

The tired party were served with a warm, ap- 
petizing supper, and little Harry was soon sound 
asleep, while the Indian woman, wrapped in a 
blanket, had lain down in a corner of the room, 
where she had insisted on making her bed. 

A cheerful fire blazed on the hearth, and, 
seated in its grateful glow, Fred listened to the 
story of “ The White Sister,” which Mary had 
commenced to tell him on the previous morning. 

The girl went back a little further in her story 
to-night, and told her wondering auditor a story 
which in some parts was much like one to which 
he had listened once before, but ended with a 
startling difference. 

It was a story of two families, friends and 
neighbors ; two mothers that were devoted com- 
panions ; two little blue-eyed, golden -haired 
children, and two strong, loving protectors. 

Then came a time of trouble upon one 


THE WHITE SISTER. 


269 


family. The young mother was dangerously 
ill and her baby lay at the gates of death, while 
the husband and father was absent from home. 

The one defender was gone to summon a 
physician. The sick woman lay in a deep swoon 
and her child was dying. Tenderly the one 
watcher bent over the tiny sufferer as the little 
fluttering life went out, and closed the blue eyes 
forever. 

How much alike were the baby sleepers as 
they lay in their cradles ! and while with tender 
hands she composed the dead child’s remains 
for the last, long sleep, her tears flowed like rain. 

Poor mother, unconscious of her loss ! would 
she ever know, or would she pass from her 
death-like faint to the better home to find her 
baby already there before her ? 

But she must try to save the mother’s life if 
possible. How like the dead she looked as she 
lay there white and still,- with her hands across 
her breast ! The nurse began to use such re- 
storatives as she had at hand, when a fearful yell 
resounded on all sides of the cabin, and a little 
later the door was broken in and the savages 
appeared in all the hideousness of their paint 
and feathers. The leader was a young Indian 
who had been friendly to the whites until some 
white man’s treachery had turned him against 
the race. 

23 * 


270 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


He grunted a salutation to the trembling 
woman and proceeded to take possession of 
what few valuables the room contained. He 
then went to the two cradles. 

“ Boy pappooses ? ” he asked, with uplifted 
tomahawk. 

“ Yes, yes, both boys,” she answered, eagerly, 
but one is dead.” 

He grunted and walked over to the bed. 

“ Ugh ! dead too ! ” he ejaculated. “ Now make 
quick to go, and bring the live pappoose. We 
will want white braves to help us by and by. 
Come along.” 

The woman knew that it would be worse than 
useless to resist ; but she dared to delay for a 
moment to place one of the baby forms on the 
bed beside the still rigid figure with white face 
and folded hands. 

A spasm of pain crossed her countenance as 
she bent over the little sleeper for one instant, 
her own living, breathing darling! Then she 
took up the dead baby tenderly, and, wrapping 
it in her shawl, clasped it close to her breast 
and went out into the night with her captors. 

She shed bitter, bitter tears . under cover of 
the darkness, at thought of her ruined home, 
her desolate, disconsolate husband, and the little 
child she had left behind. 

But as for the child, she knew it was better 


THE WHITE SISTER. 


271 


SO. To have its brains dashed out before her 
eyes for crying, or to grow up in ignorance and 
depravity, should its life be spared, these were 
the horrible alternatives. 

It would be cared for by some one now, she 
doubted not ; and commending her loved ones 
to heaven’s protection, she pressed on. 

Watching her opportunity, when she was not 
observed too closely, she dropped the tiny corpse 
gently in a sheltered spot, which, dark as it was, 
she knew well, feeling sure, that it would be 
found and given proper burial. 

Before morning an exhausted prisoner was 
killed because she could not keep up with the 
others, and her mangled form was left, an un- 
recognizable object in the forest, and the shocked, 
sick heart thanked God that its best treasures 
were left behind. 

Poor wife and mother ! Neither she nor any 
one but God himself could recount the sufferings 
that followed. And only he knew the struggles 
of the Christian woman after fortitude and sub- 
mission to his will. 

The thought that her loved ones were safe, 
was her one earthly comfort; but after a 
time that also was taken away. The tidings 
came, through some captives taken later, that 
another raid had been made upon the little 
settlement, and that all had perished. 


272 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


And so the last link was severed, and as the 
years passed on and she might have returned to 
the people of her own race, she shrank from the 
emptiness which a civilized life now offered to 
her, and gave her days and her labors to the 
people who had bereaved her. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

“RETURNING AND REST.” 

“In returning and rest shall ye be saved. ... Ye will not 
come to me, that ye might have life. . . . Him that cometh to 
me I will in no wise cast out.” 

T he previous chapter contains, in substance, 
the story of “ The White Sister,” though 
many of its particulars were learned by Frederic 
Rader long afterward, partly from her own lips, 
and partly from the lips of those whom she had 
benefited. There are, doubtless, many details 
connected with her labors which have never 
been told, but the results will be known in 
eternity. 

This devoted woman, who had learned to say 
** Thy will be done,” gave herself to the work 
of furthering the coming of the Saviour’s king- 
dom with a true missionary spirit. She taught 
and labored for the people around her in many 
ways. She denied herself to do them good. 
She nursed their sick, and tended their little 
ones with a tenderness born of mother love. 

( 273 ) 


274 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


She told them the story of the cross ; and her 
pure, unselfish life enforced the truth which she 
sought to instil into the dark minds around her. 
They said “ she was not like her people.” 

Swift Arrow, after being driven from one 
reservation to another, was hunted down for the 
treachery which he had copied from his en- 
lightened brothers ; and when at last, pierced by 
the bullets of those who, having broken faith 
with him, now executed punishment upon him 
for a like offense, he sought a place in which to 
die, with curses in his heart and on his lips for 
the whole pale-faced race, he found among his 
people one whom they loved, although a pale 
face. He found there one who labored for the 
good of his people; one who wept over the 
sorrows and wrongs for which, with their char- 
acteristic stoicism, they scorned to shed a tear ; 
one who, they said, “ talked to the Great Spirit 
and heard his voice ; ” one who told them of a 
happy country where there was room enough 
for them ! 

Poor, ignorant, exasperated savage ! Is it any 
wonder that he retorted in bitter wrath and scorn 
that he did not want to go to the white man’s 
paradise ? 

Alas for those who make the weak to offend ! 
Alas for those who lay stumbling stones at the 
gate of the kingdom of heaven ! 


RETURNING AND REST: 


275 


But Swift Arrow lived long enough to learn 
the melting story of the persecuted One who 
had not where to lay his head ; who prayed for 
his tormentors and died for his enemies. He 
lived long enough to turn his eyes to the cross, 
to repent, to forgive and be forgiven. 

Grant Lucas was still weak and nervous from 
the effects of his injuries, from which, however, 
he was slowly recovering. He sat looking hag- 
gard and careworn, his countenance stamped 
with the gloom that is illumined by no bright- 
ness. 

Fred had returned from a protracted absence, 
which he had felt more than he would have 
been willing to acknowledge. He had missed, 
also, though he did not admit this, even to him- 
self, his friend’s Bible readings and prayers. He 
was unfeignedly glad to see him, as he came in 
one bright morning, when the sun, shining 
through the evergreens at the window, made a 
bright mosaic on the floor by the side of the 
sick man’s chair. It seemed fo Grant, with the 
weakness of invalidism added to his abiding 
trouble, that there was an emphatic indifference 
to his misery even in nature’s face, while Fred’s 
countenance wore a look of brightness for which 
there was no warrant. This thought came to 
him even in the pleasure of the meeting. 


276 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


“Well, old fellow, how do you get on?’* 
asked Fred, with a warm clasp of the hand, a 
grasp that was almost painful to the thin fingers 
which he held. 

“Better, thanks,” answered Grant, indiffer- 
ently. “ You have found your boy, I see.” 

“Yes, thank God! that I have,” responded 
Fred, fervently.* “You read it in my face, did 
you ? ” 

Then he hesitated for a moment : 

“ I have found something else ; something for 
you. Grant, are you strong enough to bear a 
sight of the Bible your wife used to read ? ” 

A spasm of pain crossed the sick man’s face, 
his mouth worked, he compressed his lips for 
a moment, and answered in a steady tone : 

“ Have you found it ? ” 

“Yes, I have found it — my grandfather’s 
Bible,” answered Fred, tremulously. “ Grant^ 
how was it that you never asked my name ? ” 

Grant smiled sadly. 

“ I suspected it long ago. Later I learned the 
truth ; but what did it matter to you and me, so 
long as all was over ? ” he added, bitterly. 

“Don’t, Grant,” begged Fred, “don’t speak 
in that way, please. Try to drive despair out 
of your heart, and make room for thankfulness 
and joy, lest its coming prove more than you can 
bear.” 


** RETURNING AND REST.'* 


277 


''What do you mean?” asked Grant. "What 
joy?” 

"An exceeding great joy. Can you bear it? 
And will you believe in heaven's mercy if your 
wife and child are indeed restored to your 
arms ? ” 

He saw that his friend might know the truth. 
Joy does not often prostrate; it is grief and 
despair that canker in the heart and eat away 
the life. 

He opened the door and brought in "The 
White Sister ” and " the baby.” 

"Try to make him understand, Ollie,” said 
Fred, as he hastily left the room. 

I will not attempt to describe to my reader 
this meeting that seemed like a resurrection. 
There are scenes that are too sacred for por- 
trayal. 

Grant Lucas is now a meek and humble fol- 
lower of the Master. Almost persuaded to be 
a Christian, he had long steeled his heart against 
the influences that were brought to bear upon 
him, doubting heaven’s mercy because of the 
sore affliction which had come into his life. 

Is it any wonder that his heart was broken 
up in deep humiliation and tender sorrow for his 
past hardness, when his loved ones were given 
back to him, as from the dead ? 

24 


278 


STRUGGLING UPWARD. 


Is it any wonder that his joy was clouded 
with regret that he had been found wanting, in 
the trial which had tried him, that he seemed 
to hear the gentle rebuke bestowed by the 
Master on a doubting one of old ? Because 
thou hast seen me, thou hast believed : blessed 
are they that have not seen, and yet have be- 
lieved.” 

O my friend, when the Lord shall call us by 
our names, whether the voice shall come from 
the deep, thick darkness of sorrow, or be heard 
in the sunlight of gladness, let us see to it that 
we answer with eager, loving confidence : ” Speak, 
Lord, for thy servant heareth.” 

Far away in. the West, there is a little mission 
settlement where a noble band of men and 
women labor for the good of the souls and 
bodies of the sinful and oppressed. Its work is 
not widely known on earth, but its record is kept 
in the books that are written in heaven. It has 
a school, and a church in which the pure word 
of God is read and taught by one who, in his 
early youth, set apart for that work which is 
most God-like, once wandered from the way, but 
finding no rest or peace, came back to the Shep- 
herd and Bishop of souls. 

Simpson Harris and his sisters are among the 
most zealous laborers in this vineyard, whose in- 


^RETURNING AND REST: 


279 


gathering of souls at the time of the harvest will 
not be overlooked by the “ angel reapers.” 

Olive Lucas’ work among these forest people 
had well prepared the way for the introduction 
of her husband and brother, together with their 
friends, and all were made welcome for her 
sake. 

As for Fred, his consecration to the Master’s 
service was strengthened and renewed with a 
baptism of joy at thus finding that God had 
been to him so much better than his fears ; and 
his time and strength and all that he possesses 
are devoted unreservedly to the work to which 
he pledged his life on that day when a revela- 
tion had seemed to come to him that all his 
earthly ties were sundered. 

He still finds that to tread the upward path 
requires unyielding effort and constant watch- 
fulness ; but realizes, as all will do who make 
the trial, that the strength of God, pledged to 
the support of those who lean upon him, can 
never fail. He labors with most untiring zeal 
and fervor for those who seem most evil and 
unreclaimable, remembering the pit from which 
his own feet have been taken. And his efforts 
are not without their reward. 

Many, like Burning Star, have learned from 
his teachings enough of the Great Father and 
his Son to “ die glad.” 


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